


A Match Made in Highever

by missema



Series: Whatever Words I Say [1]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Antiva, Aphrodisiacs, Canon-Typical Violence, Courtship, Drinking, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family, Fifth Blight, Gossip, Hunting, Jealousy, Loneliness, Married Couple, Married Sex, Matchmaking, Nobility, Porn With Plot, Pre-Blight, Sex Games, The Masked Empire, Trying To Conceive, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-17
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-05 12:35:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 76,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/406451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missema/pseuds/missema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU where a non-Warden Jenna Cousland finds herself in the middle of a scheme hatched by her well-meaning parents to match her up with Bann Teagan. The Couslands get unexpected results from their determined matchmaking as the attraction between their daughter and Teagan goes from a clandestine nighttime rendezvous to a hasty wedding and all that comes after.</p><p>Starts before the Blight and (hopefully) goes through rebuilding Redcliffe after it is over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

" _We hope that you will come and visit us at your earlier convenience. Jenna has asked about you ever since she saw you at the wedding and would be most interested in your presence in Highever_." - A letter from Teyrn Bryce Cousland to Bann Teagan Guerrin  
  
Teagan read the letter over again, trying desperately to recall an image of Jenna Cousland. He was aware that he'd seen her standing up at her brother's wedding, but he couldn't remember her face at all. The penned request from her father, most unhelpfully, said next to nothing about the young woman that he hoped to entice Teagan into seeing.  The wedding was all shrouded in mist in his memories, there had been a combination of too much wine and other distractions.  Oriana, the Antivan noblemen's daughter that Fergus Cousland married had a cousin seated next to Teagan in the lowest cut dress he'd ever seen. He'd spent most of his time talking to the woman with the vain hope of coaxing her out of the revealing crimson dress.  
  
Jenna, he knew she was young, she had dark hair, maybe? That was about all he could recall of her, and she wasn't known at court so he couldn't try to recall one of his painful evenings there amongst the simpering nobles in hopes of making some sort of identification of her face. She was distinctive amongst the Couslands, but not memorable in the way that beautiful or interesting women were to him. Perhaps he just hadn't paid enough attention because she was so much younger than he, even Fergus seemed very young, though his sister had to be of marrying age if her father was writing with such intent.  With an effort he cast his mind back, trying to recall her face at one of the pre-wedding events, or even the breakfast the day after, but he had, unfortunately spent his time drinking and fishing, then doing all he could to chat up the Antivan woman.  No, he couldn't remember anything about Jenna Cousland at all and apparently he'd just seen her, not more than a year ago. He hoped she didn't look like her father Bryce, for her own sake.  
  
"Eamon, it appears I am going to Highever." Teagan told his brother a week later as he joined him at Castle Redcliffe for dinner.  It was their custom to dine together at least once a month, Teagan journeying from his nearby home in Rainesfere to visit. He'd written back to Teyrn Bryce Cousland, Jenna's father, and agreed to a visit, simply because there was no way to not agree. The Teyrn was just under the King in matters of influence and Teagan had no real objections to meeting eligible young women, though he had a fair amount of trepidation about this faceless Jenna. When he'd given it more thought, he was sure that he'd met her several times before, but simply didn't remember her at all.  That boded ill for the whole visit.  
  
"Bryce told me of his desire for you to meet his daughter and for a match to be made. Do you recall anything about her from your last trip there? It would have been Fergus's wedding, correct?" Eamon asked. He hadn't been to the wedding, his wife, the arlessa Isolde had been ill and he didn't want to leave her alone with their young son.   
  
"Not at all."  Teagan said honestly.  
  
"That's not good." Eamon said, frowning behind his grey beard. Teagan's thoughts were along the same lines, but he felt that he had to speak up on her behalf - his way of giving her a fair chance, though in truth he was already biased against the young woman that had failed to make any lasting impression on him.  
  
"She may be a perfectly fine girl yet, I just can't recall her face and we didn't really have much time to speak." Teagan grimaced, not really believing the words he'd spoken. Of course there had to be something _wrong_ with Jenna Cousland, if there wasn't she would be swimming in suitors. But he didn't think she could be truly horrible, her family was dutiful, well-liked, and delightful hosts, if a tad overbearing at times. He would go to see her, but though he doubted it would be one of his more pleasant trips to the north. He hoped that he could at least go fishing, that would give him something to look forward to.  
  
"Why don't you ask one of the others about her, perhaps Bann Loren or his wife? I think they have a son around her age. They'd be able to tell you something about the girl." Eamon suggested.  
  
"I think not." Teagan replied tartly. "I could do with a lot less of Bann Loren in my life." He didn't like the other man, too smarmy and false. Whenever they met, Teagan got the distinct impression that Loren cared only for his own gain, and would sell anything to achieve it. He found the naked ambition distasteful.  
  
"Couldn't we all?" Eamon agreed. "Well, at least you can go fishing. Always good catch in the Waking Sea."


	2. Chapter 2

Jenna Cousland was used to her parents trying to arrange her with different gentlemen, but she usually had little interest in them once she met them. Her mother had just come into her room and informed her that yet another one would be visiting, a Bann from the south was expected to arrive soon. Aside from her sigh, she displayed no outward signs of impatience, though she wasn't happy about being paraded about for another man like a prize mabari. Jenna was barely paying attention as she swept her long black hair into a ponytail, securing it away from her face. She had to concentrate on her combat training, intent on besting Fergus in a match sometime soon.  
  
"I'm sorry Mother, what's his name again?" Jenna turned and looked at her mother, who was sitting on the bed talking as her daughter got ready for her daily weapons practice.  
  
The young woman's trim figure was clad in rough leather armor that her mother helped buckle her into with practiced hands. Eleanor Cousland was proud of her daughter, though headstrong and stubborn, the girl was dutiful and capable, showing a far more intuitive and nuanced mind then her elder brother. Jenna had morphed from a gangly girl into a beautiful woman, though she was told her looked more like a distant relative than her parents. She had full lips and a small, slightly crooked nose beneath her almond shaped grey eyes. Her skin was a dark tawny color naturally but she did spend many hours outside, training, running, playing with her hound and tending to the horses. She loved the outdoors, coming in well after sunset most days, covered in dust and grime.  
  
"It's Bann Teagan Guerrin, Queen Rowan's youngest brother. You remember him don't you dear? He was at Fergus and Oriana's wedding." Her mother reminded her.  
  
"Not the one with the huge grey beard?" Jenna asked, unable to hide her disdain.  
  
"No, that's Arl Wulff, but now that you mention it Wulff does look a great deal like Teagan's brother Eamon. Eamon wasn't at the wedding, his wife had a sickness of some sort and he didn't want to leave her alone with their son." Eleanor explained, her prodigious memory for mundane details at its finest. "Teagan was the youngest of the Guerrins and during the occupation, he and Eamon lived in the Free Marches while Rowan fought with the resistance."  
  
"Fascinating." Jenna remarked absently as she continued to put on her armor and weapons. She was training with Ser Gilmore again today, an even match, though he was a warrior and she a rogue. Her quickness worked well against his strength, though she didn't relish the bruises she would have from meeting his shield.  
  
She'd thought that once her brother Fergus had married and had a child so quickly after his wedding, her parents might give her some space. But it had only proved to hasten their resolve to see her married as well, and thus, they'd began arranging meetings with Ferelden's most eligible noblemen, despite promising to let her find her own match.  
  
Recently, even Fergus had began making noises about her finding a suitor and Jenna rolled her eyes at the thought. The brother that she caught kissing more than a few of the maids had become like another father to her within just a year of his own marriage. It was maddening, though she put it down to the birth of his son. Jenna was quite taken with her nephew, Oren, and forgave her brother his newfound protectiveness.  
  
"He's the Bann of Rainesfere, which is near Redcliffe, darling." Her mother went on, extolling the many virtues of Bann Teagan. Jenna stopped listening, knowing that the teyrna would repeat this same conversation just before Teagan arrived.  She would listen then, perhaps she would find something to talk to the man about.  
  
She'd heard more than enough to know that Bann Teagan was at least ten years older than she and had never married. There had to be some compelling reason that he wasn't already married or hadn't been betrothed or at least engaged, and Jenna was not the least bit interested in finding out what it was. Although if she recalled correctly, he was handsome enough and maybe worthy of a visit to her chambers after dinner. She'd done that with a few of the men that came to call, much to her mother's chagrin. It mattered not to Jenna, who wasn't opposed to marriage, but didn't think she would find what she wanted in Ferelden. Perhaps someone more exotic, a Rivaini, like her great-grandfather had run off with.  
  
"Mother, how many more of these men do I have to endure?" Jenna asked, securing a knife to her waist. She had already armed her daggers, but the knife was extra, she didn't like being without it. Too many times in practice she'd been disarmed, knowing that if it were a real battle, she would have been left vulnerable.  
  
"It doesn't hurt to make new friends, and Teagan is quite like you, he loves the outdoors, he's a huntsman and likes to fish. I thought the two of you might find a few things to talk about. He should be here in a few days, according to his letter. Do try and be friendly Jenna, he's a very nice man." Eleanor said needlessly. She was always polite, if disinterested.  
  
"Of course, Mother." Jenna reassured her mother as she took off for her training session. By the time she'd gotten to the courtyard and started swiping at the practice dummies assembled warming up for her bout with Ser Gilmore, she had already forgotten the name of her impending visitor again.


	3. Chapter 3

" _I don't know what I will find here, but at least the weather has been good on the trip up. I hope that I will be able to get in some sport as we discussed, but I fear Bryce will want to talk politics. I loathe such topics, as you well know. If I wanted that, I might as well go to Denerim_." A letter from Teagan to his brother Eamon, a few nights before his arrival in Highever  
  
Bann Teagan arrived in Highever with a small compliment of his own guards in a few days time, their trip from the south had been mercifully quick and relatively free of bandits. The sky was a clear blue overhead and he could smell the salty, slightly pungent fishy scent of the Waking Sea drifing inland towards his route to Castle Cousland. At least the smell was somewhat familiar, though he doubted the fish of Lake Calenhad were anything like those in the sea. As they approached the ancient castle, they were met by some guards dispatched by the Teyrn to make sure they arrived safely. Teagan took the time to discreetly ask a guard about Jenna.  
  
"What is the young Lady Cousland like? I'm supposed to meet her and would like to make a favorable impression." Teagan said to the man walking at his side, dressed in armor and weilding a shield with the Cousland's laurel device painted on it. "Please, speak freely." He added, knowing that the man would still mind his tongue so close to the castle.  
  
"Well, she's quite nice actually." The man said, his discomfort evident as he spoke quickly, "An amiable personality and good with the animals. Not a big talker, you know how some young people are, prattling on about fashions or gossip all the time, but she's a thinker."  
  
"Is that right?" Teagan was slightly encouraged by this description. Too many of the women paraded in front of him had no opinions or desire to do anything but dress in ball gowns, gossip, and eat Orlesian sweets. The man offered no more and Teagan didn't press him, instead hastening his pace towards the castle. The sooner he met her, the sooner he could judge for himself.  
  
Castle Cousland was a grand, old structure, a little crumbling, a tad bit overgrown, but it retained an air of refinement. It was many, many times bigger than the modest homestead Teagan had in Rainesfere, and down every stretch of hallway was at least one guard on duty at all times. The stone walls were lined with carved wood beams and high windows that shone light in from high above. The building was constructed mainly of the grey stone that was mostly found in the north of Ferelden, everything south of Kinloch Hold was wooden, save for the Tevinter relics.  
  
"Teagan!" Bryce Cousland's recognizable voice boomed as Teagan passed through the front gates. He smiled at the grey haired man, and crossed his arms in front of his chest in the proper greeting. Bryce clapped him on the shoulder happily, looking relieved at the sight of him.  
  
"My lord. Thank you for your invitation." Teagan said.  
  
"It's no problem, none at all. How was your journey? No problems, I hope."  
  
"None at all. It was quite pleasant." Teagan answered truthfully. They hadn't even been caught in much of the rain that had been turning his lands into mud as he left, and for that he was grateful.  
  
"Good, good. Jenna will be pleased to hear you've arrived. She's around here somewhere, out on the grounds perhaps." One of the knights behind Bryce replied in the affirmative and he nodded. "Would you like to go and settle in first or go to the grounds to find my daughter?"  
  
"To the grounds I think. I've been here several times but I haven't been in the grounds much." Teagan replied. His true reason was to see Jenna before she knew he arrived and observe her. He wanted to find out something about who she was truly before all the posturing began.  
  
They walked across the grounds, through the tended grasses and onto a part of the grounds that looked more like the coastland it was situated on. It had the soft, half sand, half soil mix of dirt the gave way underfoot, and knee high grasses grew around them in various shades of green and yellow. Jenna Cousland was there, visible at a distance and appeared to be playing with her dog.  
  
Teagan noted that she was clad in leather armor, as though always ready for a battle, weapons strapped to her back as she threw something away from her, the mabari charging off at high speed to catch it. There was a castle guard with her, but he was standing off into the distance, standing at attention as he watched them approach. He heard the guard speak to her without turning and Jenna looked over her shoulder just as her mabari came bounding back to her, knocking her off balance while distracted. Teagan chuckled to himself at the sight of the overeager dog leaping around her feet, looking for praise. He was sure that many men had done just the same as the hound.  
  
Her father was nothing if not predictable, and when she saw a group of men headed towards her, all Jenna could manage was an exasperated sigh. She knew her father would bring Teagan out to see her and she had made no attempts to change out of her armor or to impress Teagan, just as she hadn't with any of the other men that had been paraded through Highever for her benefit. In fact, she wanted to know if she should even bother right away, which is why she'd planned on wearing her armor to dinner. What she didn't expect was to see a man in veridium chain walking towards her, a warrior in his own right, a handsome man at the side of her father. Resolutely ignoring their approach, Jenna continued to play with her dog, Horatio, until she could no longer ignore her father's voice.  
  
"Jenna!" Bryce Cousland knew his daughter could hear him, but had chosen to ignore his summons. She had been angry at him and her mother since this whole nonsense with the suitors had started. He couldn't blame her, but he'd explained it to her before. She was a Cousland, and must uphold her duty, even when it is something like getting married. He didn't have the heart to force her into a marriage, but he was going to do everything within his power to make sure she saw the best of what was available.  
  
"Yes, Father." Jenna jogged over to them with her hound at her side. The hound allowed Bryce to pet it on the head but Teagan didn't even try. It wouldn't allow him until he first found out his mistress felt about Teagan. It was a stately dog, even covered in mud as he was. The mabari wearing a worn leather collar and free from the kaddis that so many wardogs wore when hunting, but he supposed this woman was not a serious sportswoman. He had often wished for his own hound during hunting season, but had never been so lucky as to have a mabari imprint on him.  
  
"Teagan, may I present my daughter Jenna and her hound, Horatio. Jenna, this is Teagan, Bann of Rainesfere, brother to Arl Eamon of Redcliffe and the late Queen Rowan." Bryce gave them a formal introduction, which amused his daughter, as they were knee-deep in muck surrounded by a field of overgrown grass with a filthy dog between them.  
  
"It is nice to see you again, my lord." Jenna said to Teagan. She offered him her hand, the leather glove covered in dirt and drool from her dog. He didn't flinch as he shook it, impressing the young woman. The last arl's son she'd met had ran off to wash himself thoroughly after Horatio gave him an enthusiastic greeting.  
  
According to her mother, he had been in attendance at Fergus's wedding, but she didn't really remember him. Then again she had been part of the festitivities that day, imbibing enough wine to ensure the whole night was a blurry mess of laughter, dancing and frivolity. To say Teagan was a nice looking man would be an understatement to her eyes, he wore his mail easily, his body muscled underneath. His hair held no hint of greying and he was looking at Jenna with a surprised interest, that she was returning, for the moment. She'd been through this before, a nobleman would show up at Castle Cousland, see her and decide that she was perfect, then she'd do something normal, like practice combat or offer her opinion and it would go downhill from there.  
  
"And you as well my lady. Your hound is looking especially well." Teagan replied, speaking more to the dog himself, and earning an approving bark. Horatio didn't wait for Teagan to reach down to pet him, instead jumping around the nobleman, barking happily and splashing him with mud. Both Teagan and Jenna laughed, catching the other's eye and looking away, Jenna blushing immediately, silently thanking the Maker for the dark complexion that hid most of it.  
  
Bryce was convinced that the meeting was going as well as could be expected with Jenna and wanted to absent himself while he could. "I must get back up to the castle." Bryce announced, motioning at the guard that had been watching over Jenna to come with him.  
  
"Of course Father. I will see you for dinner." Jenna said.  
  
"Thank you again for your hospitality, my lord." Teagan said.  
  
"I will have the men put your belongings in your chambers. When you come back to the castle, Jenna can you show Teagan where he will be staying?"  
  
"Certainly, Father."  
  
"Thank you, pup." Her father's eyes twinkled at her and she saw a smile twitching at the corners of his tired mouth before he turned away. Damn her father, she thought savagely. She bet he was responsible for Teagan's visit. Her mother preferred to parade her around the local bann's son's, young, impressionable men, but a man of her own interests, this suggestion might have come from her father.  
  
It was her father that encouraged her independence, that brought her dog home with him from a trip. While he often expressed his desire to see her settled, it came from the hopes to see his daughter happy, not a need to control her future. They watched Bryce retreat with the guardsmen at his heels. Neither spoke until he was completely out of sight.  
  
"Why are you here, Bann Teagan?" Jenna asked sharply, wary once the moment of commraderie had passed.  
  
"Please, it's just Teagan. I couldn't refuse an invitation from your father." Teagan explained. Somehow he thought that she just didn't want to hear a lie about her beauty pulling him back in, or that he wanted a wife.  
  
Jenna laughed, a loud, undignified guffaw that sounded around the field they were in. It transformed the air between them, relieving the tension. When he smiled back at her, it was a much truer smile, her laughter calming him.  
  
"At least you're honest. Do you even want to get married?" Jenna was curious, wondering how Teagan, with his connection to the King and title and good looks hadn't taken a wife before.  
  
"Do you?" He raised an eyebrow in challenge as he asked the question back, using time to formulate his own answer.  
  
"Yes, but not if I have to give up having a life that is interesting. I don't like going to court and have no desire to dress in the finest Orlesian fashions."  
  
"What is it that you do like, my lady?"  
  
"Jenna." She corrected. If he was going insist upon using his given name, so would she.  
  
"Jenna. What is it that you like?" Teagan asked again and she shrugged, walking a few steps away from him before she turned back and answered.  
  
"This, being outdoors. Fishing in the Waking Sea, reading, hunting with my dog, practicing with my weapons. Reading books in front of the fire, being solitary but not alone." She looked up at Teagan to see his reaction.  
  
"I would have expected no other answers from a woman I met in the middle of a field, heavily armed and playing catch with a war dog."  
  
"That's all? Aren't you going to tell me how inappropriate it would be for a married woman to do such things?"  
  
"Not at all. I can't imagine how dull embroidery must be if you've been used to combat training. I wouldn't want to take it up, that much is true." Teagan said, and he was rewarded with Jenna's laugh again, this time it was gentler, more in line with her pretty features.  
  
Teagan was shocked at just how pretty she was, and he'd remembered her upon their meeting. She was the one that he had thought a cousin of some sort rather than Fergus's sister, the two looked nothing alike, save for their eyes. But where Fergus was pale skinned and ruddy, Jenna's tawny skin was smooth, her raven hair pulled away from her face. She was quite striking, and he recalled her dancing enthusiastically with many of the men at the wedding, though he hadn't tried his luck.  
  
"And what of you, Teagan?"  
  
"I do wish to be married, but I don't want to have a marriage like my sister had." Teagan spoke without thinking and he regretted it the instant he saw the widening of Jenna's dark brown eyes.  
  
"What do you mean, my lord?"  
  
"My sister Rowan, the Queen, was happy enough by all accounts. She and Maric had a respect for each other that came from duty and familiarity, but I don't think they were ever passionate about each other. It seems foolish to wish for passion, love and respect in a relationship, but it is my desire to have them in my relationship."  
  
"Do I arouse your passions, my lord?" Jenna asked and Teagan blanched at the bold question.  
  
"You are...most delightfully unexpected." Teagan said truthfully. "And you have so far aroused my interest which is more than I had hoped. As for my passions, would you not agree that those are only roused after knowing someone for a time?"  
  
"I would say that time has little to do with how intimately you know someone."  
  
Teagan froze at her statement, the second one in their short acquaintence that hinted at impropriety. Was she flirting with him, trying to entice him into her bed, or was he imaginging it? Whatever it was, it was working, Teagan could feel himself responding to her pretty face and provocative words.  
  
"Shall we go back to the castle, my lady?" Teagan asked, reverting formality in the the face of her impertinent statement and offered his arm to her. He was a little strained, a bit flushed as he ignored the double meaning of her words. Jenna pushed past the awkwardness, locking her arm with his as they started back towards the castle with Horatio trailing behind them.  
  
They spoke about trifles, nonsense, the weather and his trip up, both determinedly keeping the conversation light. Neither cared about the words they spoke, but rather that they liked talking to each other. Teagan felt a light buzzing in his head when they walked, no doubt caused by his fatigue and the unexpectedness of meeting someone charming and interesting. Her aggressiveness had thrown him, but he nearly laughed aloud as he found himself hoping that they could get to know each other better before he left. After all, that is what her parents intended.


	4. Chapter 4

" _This time it isn't as bad as it was before, though I have to admit that it has more to do with the man than any ingenuity on my parent's part. Was it like this for you, Alfstanna? Did they parade every eligible man in Thedas in front of you? It's like a buffet of poorly made dishes, when you finally get to a good one, you're so damn relieved you partake too merrily and make yourself ill_." - excerpt from a letter from Jenna Cousland to Bann Alfstanna  
  
  
"So tell me, dear sister, are we enjoying this guest?" Oriana shifted the sleeping child in her arms as she spoke to Jenna in a low voice.  
  
"We are. I'm actually looking forward to spending time with him, though I don't know how much that will actually be. Father does like to do business whenever he gets the chance." Jenna said.  
  
After talking with Teagan at dinner the night before, she had woken up without the feeling of dread that usually filled her as she entertained these suitors. In the morning she'd been happy to think of spending more time with him, and they'd spoken briefly, at breakfast. She'd needed to see to her dog, who had somehow found his way into the larder again, and he had been taken on a fishing trip with Fergus, presumably to suss out his first impressions of Jenna. The thought struck her just as Oriana was going to speak again, and Jenna cut her off.  
  
"After they come back, are you and Fergus going to compare notes, then make a report to my father?"  
  
"Probably." Oriana answered honestly. "But that's better than if we could all tell you that you loathed him and were simply enduring the visit. Think ahead, sister. This visit could lead to more."  
  
Oriana had busied herself with the baby, rearranging the blankets folded around him and was diverted from questioning Jenna. The younger woman pondered if she really did want Teagan to come for more visits. After four or more visits, extended of course, due to the distance he must travel to see her, there would be talk of an official engagement announcement. Normally, such ideas filled Jenna with dread, but regarding Teagan, she didn't harbor such feelings.  
  
It wasn't that she was already smitten with Teagan, that was far from the case, though she did like him. It was that she felt, for the first time the possibility of something, liking him, enjoying his company for more than a fleeting moment. If they did not fall in love, Teagan would at least become a good friend to her. The thought turned sour in her mind, recalling his statement about wanting love and passion in any match he might make. There would be no comfortable life of friendship for them, Teagan would simply move on. At such thoughts, an uncomfortable twist made her stomach lurch and she calmed herself by turning back to Oriana, who was watching her with shrewd eyes now that she'd repositioned the babe to her liking.  
  
"Well then, Jenna, pray tell, would you like Teagan to come for more visits? Or are we back to searching?"  
  
"I hate how the whole of the house is invested in my affairs." Jenna grumbled, but then answered her sister in law. "Further visits from Teagan would be appreciated, and I would like to make the most of this one. From what I've seen so far, he is a fascinating man."  
  
"Don't fret, you will have your chance to speak further with him. If not today, then I believe your father is organizing a hunt for tomorrow, since the lord is fond of hunting."  
  
A loud cry from the bundle of blankets she assumed was her nephew cued Jenna's departure from the room at a hastened pace. As a nurse bustled in the direction of the room, she went off to the study to find a book that might entertain her, or at least prove a suitable distraction. She wondered how the fishing was that day, it was a clear blue day with a gentle breeze that wiped away the scant clouds that marred the horizon, and she hoped that Fergus wasn't too blunt in his interrogation of Teagan.  
  
  
They reentered Castle Cousland, reeking of fish and salt water, both Teagan and Fergus pink in the face from the sun they'd taken in. It was after luncheon when they came back, but Teagan gave no thought to his hunger, but rather wanted to bathe.  
  
The short day of fishing had yielded a fine catch, and Fergus was a fine sportsman, though that was not the real purpose of their trip. He had known that the elder Cousland would inquire about his visit so far, and gather any impressions of his sister. On that score, Teagan was careful. He liked Jenna a great deal so far, more than he wanted to admit to even himself, but he had been through this before. There had been times when a good first impression blown out of proportion, and hurt feelings when the match didn't pan out.  
  
When he hadn't been forthcoming about Jenna, merely saying that he was looking forward to the duration of the visit, Fergus went to great lengths to tell Teagan of the many virtues of his sister.  
  
"Ah, it seems my dear sister is in the courtyard with her weapons. Would you like to see her?" Fergus was polite enough to give him time to nod, but just, before he walked on, growing closer to the middle of the courtyard where the Lady Cousland was practicing a rather complicated set of dance-like movements with a trainer.  
  
She did not turn her eyes from her instruction, but spoke to them as she worked.  
  
"Is that you, Fergus? And here I thought I'd go the whole day without smelling fish guts."  
  
"Now, now sister. We have a guest."  
  
"Lord Teagan." She grunted as she missed her mark, her trainer rebuking her with a strike to her side. "How lucky for you that you get to see me sweating and grunting like a mare in labor."  
  
Teagan laughed, as Jenna executed the move she'd been working on, her feet nimble and quick as she closed in to hit her mark. "I cannot say I smell any better than your brother, but I only sought to greet you before I went off to my quarters."  
  
"Consider yourself greeted most merrily, though distractedly. If you would excuse me." She said through gritted teeth as she rolled away to dodge an incoming strike.  
  
Watching her fight was like watching the ballet, if it were much quicker and performed with swords. Her movements had the same fluidity, the grace that seemed effortless but were aided by practice, dexterity and strength. Jenna was quick and nimble wielding her own weapons, and he could see how she could easily incapacitate even the most heavily armored of assailants. When a strike came down, she tumbled and twisted until she was no longer there, her body contorting as she fought.  
  
It made his mind wander towards other ways such an agile frame could be of a most pleasing advantage, and Teagan nearly lost himself to reverie, but forced himself to concentrate on the sparring. After a few more minutes, Fergus shouted out a goodbye for both of them, but received no response. The pace of the fighting had quickened, neither party able to spare a thought to their spectators. Teagan had to wrench his eyes away from the mesmerizing scene, now truly resembling a fierce dance and he worried that she might be injured. Though Fergus had been talking his sister up all morning, he didn't lie about her battle prowess. Both trainer and Jenna were pushing harder, and he could see the sweat on both of them as they dodged and danced around the other.  
  
Reluctantly, he followed Fergus away from Jenna and to his room, where a bath was already drawn. It was most welcome, as would be the nap he'd take afterwards. Teagan was pleased; for as much as he liked fishing, the highlight of his day so far had been when he'd seen Jenna, not before. Though he'd confide that in no one, it gave him a great deal of confidence about the rest of the visit.  
  
  
  
"It feels almost as if it's the purpose of everyone here to convince me of how wonderful you are." Teagan murmured to Jenna, earning an abashed chuckle from the lady, who looked even more fetching with the color flooding her cheeks. It reminded him of how she'd been that afternoon, fighting in the courtyard.  
  
They were in the castle study together, much later in the day. After he'd rested and ate, there was nothing more for him to do until dinner and he retired amongst the books. They'd happened upon each other just as Brother Aldous was launching into a spiel about how well-read the young lady Cousland was, when Jenna walked in announcing that a squire was defacing a history book. The old scholar to rushed from the room in a huff, muttering ominously to himself, and leaving them quite alone.  
  
"They are a bit worried about me, and well, you do seem to suit me much better than any of my previous callers." She admitted. "I wouldn't be surprised if they'd already planned our wedding." Jenna said archly, raising an eyebrow at him.  
  
"Made a bridal chest for you and moved on to naming our kids?" Teagan played along with a wry smile.  
  
Such talk would usually be off-putting to Teagan, but comforted him to know that Jenna found it as ridiculous as he did. Knowing that the motivations of those that sought so eagerly to match them up were kind spoke well of the lady, so many cared about her. That others thought him well-suited to her made a strange kind of pride well up in his chest. It was a strange thing for him to have this easy camaraderie with a woman to whom he was attracted. Usually, he exhausted himself during an extended visit, and was reduced to awkward small talk and smiles. Conversation and even the occasional jest flowed easily between the two, and he felt promise in the match.  
  
"Lord Teagan, please." Jenna made a face of mock outrage. "We Highever maids have our bridal chests made as soon as we are even old enough to marry. I'm sure mine is filled with seashells, arrows and mabari treats, unless my mother has redone it for me.  
  
It was Teagan's turn to laugh now, picturing a younger Jenna filling the grand ornately carved wooden chests that it was custom for a young bride to take with her when she left home. She probably only even had one at her mother's insistence and a picture of her wearing a scowl as she dumped an armload of arrows into the chest appeared in his mind. He wondered if she had filled the chest today if the contents be very different from what she described.  
  
"You use the bow as well, then?" He asked. When they'd met she'd had daggers strapped to her back, though he hadn't given them much thought until he'd spied her earlier in the day, doing her training.  
  
"Mother is quite proficient with a bow. She taught both of us, though Fergus is still dreadful. I had to learn to use a bow before she'd let me move on to daggers."  
  
"You Cousland women are something else." Teagan muttered, more to himself than to Jenna, and she smiled at him.  
  
"Just wait until the hunt tomorrow." She said. "I'm sure mother will come, though perhaps not Oriana. She's never been much for any sort of weapon."  
  
"I'm surprised your brother married a woman that couldn't best him at swordplay."  
  
"Oriana would say that she's quite dangerous wielding kindness and poison, as are most Antivan women." Jenna remarked, smiling as she thought of her beloved sister.  
  
"Ah, now that makes much more sense. Perhaps there is a benefit to being skilled in the more subtle arts."  
  
Giving a short laugh, Jenna said, "And my mother would say that I wouldn't know anything about subtle, but I am quite handy with poison."  
  
Teagan was only able to respond with a bleat of laughter before a bell chimed calling them away to dinner. Eleanor was certainly correct in her assessment of her daughter, Jenna didn't excel in the tricky conversations and clever wordplay of the courtly ladies he'd met before, but he found her beguiling all the same. Extending his arm to Jenna, excitement trilling up his spine when she accepted, pressing her side into his, as he led her into the dining hall.


	5. Chapter 5

_"We go for a hunt tomorrow, and according to Bryce, there's plenty of game around their land.  I hadn't much thought of it before this visit, since the fishing is so good, though I doubt my skill in these foreign lands.  But of course you'd want to hear about how I am getting along with the young Lady Cousland, though I prefer to keep that to myself for the moment.  Suffice it to say, the visit is more pleasant than I anticipated."_ \- An excerpt letter from Teagan to his brother Eamon at Castle Redcliffe.  
  
That morning a maid had come to deliver proper hunting clothes from Fergus's collection of castoffs, for the clothes he'd brought were all too formal for a hunt, and his chain mail was unacceptable for the wet conditions and humid climate.  He had never given much thought to the inland parts of Highever, for the money and the living came mostly from the bounty of the Waking Sea.  They had no great forest resources like Gwaren, the sea plains extending well past the harbor, but the skies were bountiful with both water and game fowl.   As Bryce explained that morning over an early breakfast, that only increased the challenge.  
  
"We'll hunt birds and small game, using the dogs to draw them out.  It can be more difficult to catch them in the tall grasses, so you'll need a sharp eye."  
  
"I'll keep that in mind."  Teagan said.  He was an avid huntsmen, though he didn't think wading through murky swamps and reedy grass with muddy dogs would prove very successful.  
  
"Don't worry,"  Jenna said from his side, "my hound is well trained.  I'm paired with you, and know the land well."  
  
"That is reassuring."  Teagan answered, giving her a wide smile.   
  
Across the table, Eleanor squeezed her husband's hand, observing the interaction between Bann Teagan and their daughter.  She would never have admitted it before, but Teagan was a very inspired choice of a suitor.  Her doubts that he would be too old or ill-matched had faded as his visit wore on, and she watched both him and Jenna seeking the other out.  After this, she'd arrange another visit, something more formal to get him to come back for an extended stay, though she didn't know if he would be able to stay away from his bannorn for very long.  
  
Fergus was oblivious to the closeness between the two, and was still endeavoring in earnest to get them together by listing Jenna's qualities.  "Jen's a crack shot.  She hits most of birds from the ground before they even have a chance to take flight."  
  
"Then I'm very lucky that you're so skilled."  Teagan said.  
  
"I'll say.  She's usually my partner."  Fergus said jovially, happy that he was doing his part in helping his sister.  His count was sure to suffer without her at his side, but he could manage well enough on his own.  
  
The hunt started not soon after breakfast, with Eleanor Cousland leading their merry band.  A collection of other nobles and friends, most of the people were in high spirits though the weather was muggy and grey.  Part of Teagan had thought the whole hunt a diversion for his benefit, but he discovered that the entirety of the household was quite serious about the hunt, down to the scullery maids.  Later he came to realize that it was an event not often undertaken, but highly anticipated by all.  Jenna walked by his side in the sticky breeze, her dog in front, an instrument like a miniature spyglass hanging from her waist, which she called her 'spotting scope' and a large, well-worn bow on her back.  
  
"It was once Mother's."  She'd explained, as she slipped on a pair of archer's gloves.  
  
"It suits you."  He said, earning a smile from her.  "I must confess, I don't think I'll be of much help today.  Around Redcliffe, the game is...bigger."  He didn't want to add that he knew the land so well that he never failed to come back with a prize, even without a hound of his own.  It felt almost ridiculous to be going out to hunt with a dagger and light clothes instead of with his sword and chain mail.  
  
"Well, perhaps I can show you a few of my tricks, even if we don't bag the prize."  Jenna consoled, patting him on the arm.  Though it was hardly appropriate for a hunt, he threaded his arm through hers as they left Castle Cousland, walking towards the hunting grounds.  
  
Exhausted and with his borrowed clothes completely covered in muck and sweat, Teagan trudged with the rest of the hunt back up to the castle.  He couldn't say that he enjoyed the outing, though Jenna's bow had given them a respectable catch to bring to the kitchens.  Along with the fish he and Fergus had caught previously, he had the feeling that they were stocking the castle larder for winter, the maids already busy drying the meats to preserve it.  
  
He and Jenna were amongst the last to return, taking their time walking in the mounting warmth of the day.  She was covered in sweat and grime, her hair falling loose from its restraint, but still managed to look pleased with herself.  
  
"If I visit Rainesfere, will you take me to hunt there?"  She asked.  
  
"Of course!  That might give me a chance ot make up for my lamentable performance today, and show you that I'm not entirely hopeless."  Teagan said, already thinking of his own lands and the things he could impress her with should she come to visit.  
  
"You're not hopeless.  I think you're wonderful."  Jenna murmured, and Teagan froze, her cheeks flushed pink as she reached out for his hand.  
  
The next moment, he was pulling her into a kiss, two slightly chapped sets of lips meeting, though hers were plump and soft against his own.  It was a sweet kiss, the two of them standing just out of sight of the castle, her mabari a few feet away watching.  Her hands were locked between them, pinned against his chest, his on her hip, keeping her close.  Jenna broke the kiss, pulling away slightly.  
  
Then her mouth was back, hands slid up his shoulders and raked in his sweaty hair.  Their second kiss was much less chaste, a hungry undercurrent sweeping them both.  The hand that had been content to rest on her hip pushed her closer to him, and slid down to cup her backside as their tongues met.  Warmth spread through his body, even as achy and tired as it was, a surge that sent him soaring when he heard her whimper against his mouth.  He gripped her harder, stealing control away from her as he dominated the kiss.  With every breathless moment, as her mouth yielded to his, her hands running the length of his sides, down his back, he felt his restraint ebbing away.  
  
Lips descended to kiss her chin, the line of her jaw and underside of her neck.  Teagan could hear her, the tiny muffled moans of pleasure that she was making at brush of his lips over her skin.  Their bodies were as close as possible, and at a distance it was impossible to discern them as two figures.  A moan escaped him as Jenna regained the upper hand, kissing his jaw with hard, biting little kisses before brushing her lips over the column of his throat.  
  
Time was suspended as they expressed their increasing attraction to each other, their kisses rapidly becoming more intimate as they stood together.  He didn't know just how long had passed when the dog gave a quiet bark, and they broke apart, he keenly aware of the rawness of want filling his head and making him reckless.  He didn't care who might see them or why the dog had barked, cursing it for interrupting.  Teagan didn't release her, didn't move his hands from where they rested on her body, but spoke in a deep, growling tone.  
  
"May I visit your quarters tonight?"  He asked, being as bold as she'd been when they'd met.   
  
"I thought you'd never ask."  Jenna replied, slithering out of his arms just in time to keep Eleanor from seeing them.  "After everyone else is asleep, my door will be unlocked."  She added in a rushed whisper, just before beginning to walk towards her mother, who had obviously been waiting for them, for she still wore her hunting clothes.


	6. Chapter 6

_While I am excited by him, and the thought of being with him, it feels like there is a connection between Lord Teagan and I.  Nothing about this liasion resembles those in my past, and I fear that my affection for him might make me more attached than I would like.  Still, he shall be here soon, and I have the fluttering feeling of both the hunter and the prey, arousal mixing with wine in my belly.  Whatever may come, this will be a night I won't soon forget._   - From the journal of Jenna Cousland  
  
It was eerily quiet as Teagan made his way the short distance to Jenna's room.  She wasn't far from him, and he said a silent prayer of thanks to the Maker, for he felt his every footfall sounded too loudly against the stone floor as he crept towards her private quarters.  A sense of irony filled him, he felt like a much younger man again, reminding himself of the first time he'd ever sneaked into the bedroom of a maiden, back when he was still in the Free Marches.  
  
She was waiting for him, and when she opened the door, he experienced a treat that he had only ever heard about.  Jenna was wearing a sheer nightdress, Antivan by the look of it, for the revealing garment was trimmed in the lace they were famous for making, the dim candlelight in her room tantalizingly illuminated the silhouette of her form beneath the filmy material.  As she moved, it shifted back and forth, obscuring and revealing as it shimmered over her curves.  Teagan didn't even want to blink, hoping to forever preserve the image of her in his mind; black hair tumbling down over her shoulders, the sheer dress a veil over the firm but pleasingly shapely body beneath, the excited dusky rose color that shown on her cheeks and the inviting smile she wore as she waved him in wordlessly.  
  
"You look magnificent."  He breathed into her ear, taking her in his arms as soon as the door was closed.  In the corner of the room, her mabari snuffled happily in his sound sleep.  
  
She murmured her thanks at the compliment, but made it evident that she wasn't at all interested in conversation.  Her kiss landed on his lips as a hand raked through his mostly-dry hair.  Teagan had been careful bathing that night, washing his hair and redoing the braid in the front.  After that he'd shaved, carefully trimming his beard in the looking glass before he'd come to see her.  
  
All the preparation had made him a bit nervous, and he wished for the spontaneity of that moment from earlier, when he didn't care who might see them and all that mattered was capturing her lips against his own.  Just recalling the feeling made it flood through him and he wrapped an arm around her, holding her close as he dipped his face to hers and tasted the wine on her lips.  
  
At least he wasn't the only nervous one.  
  
Instead of letting it show, he banished it, breathing out slowly to master himself.  Jenna was still within his arms, and Teagan kissed her again, a slow, teasing kiss.  It hit all the right notes, easing the edge of jangled excitement from him, and serving to soothe her, making her docile and yielding beneath his lips.  When he pulled away from her, she took his hand in hers, fingers lacing through his own.  
  
He let himself be pulled towards her bed, and the two of them standing near the edge, slid Jenna's nightdress down, letting it pool on the ground at her feet.  Beneath it, she wore nothing and he let his eyes soak in the vision of her before him.  Nude, she was beautiful, but not flawless, which both intrigued and mesmerized him.  She looked like the battle-maiden she was, her body muscled and taut, with a few scars, one very old looking and deep.  He cupped a firm breast in one hand, feeling the weight of it, teasing the end with the pad of his thumb.  The moan she gave was more than enough payment for the effort, her head dropping back to expose the full column of her neck as his fingertips caressed her.  
  
He was entirely too clothed, and set about disrobing himself as quickly as possible.  Her fingers helped unlace his breeches as he pulled his tunic over his head.  Jenna settled into the bed first, as he took off his smallclothes, letting them join the pile of clothing on the floor.   She made to put out the candle near her bed, but he stopped her.  
  
"Don't."  Teagan said, aware that the dim flicker of light was the only one near her bed.  "I want to see you."  
  
"As you wish."  Jenna said, and laid back against her sheets, the counterpane folded away.  
  
Joining her on the bed, Teagan was pushed down into the mattress as Jenna took the time to admire him, kissing neck and shoulders as her nails traced artlessly up and down his skin.  Her lips brushed over the hollow of his collarbone, and nipped at the lobe of his ear before coming to settled on his mouth.    
  
They were mostly silent, save for a few muffled moans and gasps.  As their kiss grew in intensity, he could nothing but pray that the thick stone walls would be enough to keep others from hearing, because the beating of his own heart filled his ears, drowning out any sense he had.  The tip of her tongue touched his own, teasing, drawing him out and claiming it whenever he dared to follow her lead.    
  
Flame ignited across his skin, lit by her fierce kisses.  Jenna was pulling his hair, scratching nails across his flesh and he wanted nothing more than to be in her, to feel her surrounding him.  Reason was nearly lost to him as she plundered his mouth with her tongue, her teeth pulling on his lower lip.  Her hands were urgent and needy as they groped him, bringing him closer to her.  
  
Without further delay, Teagan broke off their kiss, and flipped her over, placing her body beneath him on the bed.  It would help slow things down if he were on top, and he concentrated on that, on giving her pleasure even though his body ached, pulsing angrily as if it rejected his plans.  He placed scorching kisses across her chest before taking a bronzed breast in his mouth.  A deep, content moan escaped her as he did, flicking the bud with his tongue and lips, sucking it until it was a hard knot.  He moved to the other, taking his time and doing the same in turn to it.    
  
When he moved lower, licking the curve of her stomach, kissing the feather soft interior of her thighs, Jenna shuddered bodily, he feeling it reverberate throughout his own form.   It was heady, being with her, a clandestine meeting, the darkness of night surrounding them, the promise of fulfilled desires goading them forward.    
  
The smell of aroused woman hit Teagan, making him groan as he parted her thighs for a first taste.  Jenna started at the touch of his tongue, sweeping along her slit, questioning and pleasuring in equal measure.  Without ever asking, but simply gauging her intakes of breath, he found what she liked and set to it, needing no more encouragement than her hands buried in his hair, and her throaty whispers of his name.  
  
It was a short trip to guide her towards release, and she grabbed at tufts of his hair, holding him to her.  His fingers steadily working inside of her, feeling the overwhelming heat, her hips rolling against his lips.  She came with a growl, her hands clutching at him enough to make it hurt, but he paid it no heed, lapping and sucking, the taste of her intensified flooding over his tongue.    
  
"Teagan."  Jenna whispered his name in a shaky voice.  "Oh, Maker.  Teagan."  
  
He looked up at her then from between her splayed thighs, her hands had released him from their grip after she came, one sliding down to cup his cheek.  It was a beautiful sight, seeing her glassy-eyed in the faint light, raven hair spread messily beneath her head as she was filled with the blessed languor that followed release.  Her features were relaxed, almost inviting as her hand coaxed him upwards.  He trailed wet kisses up her body, licking the valley between her breasts, sucking on her neck before capturing her lips.    
  
Their heads were together, touching lightly, and Jenna laughed softly into his kiss, making him draw back with a bemused grin.  "I wasn't sure I'd like you, but I'm happy to report I'm quite certain I do now."    
  
Teagan gave a quiet chuckle.  "This has been my favorite visit to Highever, and it has everything to do with you."  
  
They lay together, the unexpected tenderness of the moment enveloping the two.  It was comfortable, but Jenna's hand wrapped around his length after a few moments, and she squeezed him, her hand forming a tight cocoon around his cock.  She started to stroke him, slowly, making tension coil in his belly.  Unintentionally grinding his teeth at the intensity of the motion, Teagan took her urging for what it was, and positioned himself above her, the head of him teasing her wet folds.  He let himself relax for a second, brushing at the damp curls between her legs, enjoying her quiet noises of frustration she made at his fleeting touches.  
  
Pressing into her, he gasped as he sheathed himself, his sound echoed by her own low whine at the sensation.  Maker, she was snug, dizzyingly so, and he stilled momentarily, to get his bearings.  Jenna ended his respite with a roll of her hips, and he followed her lead, the pace easy, his thrusts maddeningly slow and deep, deliberate.  Teagan took the time to relish the exquisite feeling of her slick walls tightening and flexing around him, the way her body accommodated his, the expression on her face.  Jenna made love with her eyes open, only closing them when sensation overtook her.  She smiled at him, true, sweet smiles and gave him soft kisses as she ran her hands along the planes of his body and through his hair.  
  
This wasn't how it usually went for him, he normally didn't admire the women he bedded so much, didn't think about how radiant they looked and didn't bother to examine their expressions.  Though he wasn't selfish, at least not to his mind, he took care with Jenna that he didn't with other women.  Returning her kisses and smiles, he let the sweet sentiment overtake him as he breathed endearments into her ear.  
  
Jenna wrapped her legs around his waist, the heels of her feet digging into his rear as she wordlessly bade him to speed up.  Teagan obliged, the two of them rocking faster, gaining speed.  His body grew slick with sweat, and the hands that had been caressing him became insistent, scratching and grabbing as they continued.  He changed angles, lifting one of her legs over his shoulder, tilting her hips up towards him, pressing in harder and deeper, earning a ragged mewl of approval from Jenna.    
  
This provided a new view of her beneath him, and he watched her breasts jiggle with his every thrust.  The candle next to her bed was guttering, shadows dancing across her body as he filled her.  Teagan listened to her soft moans, losing track of time as he concentrated on the feeling of her around him.  Without warning, he felt the familiar surges of heat crash down upon him, and he couldn't hold it back, only catching himself in time not to yell, turning the exclamation into a growl in his throat.  The candle went out around them shrouding them in near darkness.  
  
Teagan let the feeling wash over him, giving a few more lazy strokes as he did.  The sweet smile was back on Jenna's face, and he let her leg drop to the side of him as he leaned forward to kiss those smiling lips, her up-turned nose.  He finally came to the bed, letting himself slip out of her, missing the feeling of her acutely as soon as he did.  
  
There was no question whether he could stay - he knew that he couldn't.  But the desire was there, wanting to stay with her until morning, sleeping off and on between bouts of increasingly drowsy sex.  He wanted to know the night with her, in all of its glorious intimacy.  Liaisons such as theirs offered no kinds of leisure, and he forced himself to get up from the bed after a quarter hour of laying in the darkness with her, kissing her with soft lips.  
  
"I must go back to my room, lest some wandering pair of eyes notices my absence, Jenna."  He explained, though she knew it was well as he did.  
  
"Teagan, this was...wonderful.  I don't know if it meant as much to you as it did to me, but I will never forget this night."  
  
"Nor will I, milady.  It was... very special."  He whispered.  Sufficient praise escaped his tired mind, and he could think of nothing else to add.  Instead of goodbye, he just left it at that, giving her one last kiss before slipping cautiously out the door.


	7. Chapter 7

Inviting Teagan back a second time had been a folly born of desire, but one she'd had to make.  Jenna wanted him, and could hardly bare the thought of him leaving Highever.  They made plans again for another night of their own, away from anyone that may see them and offer comment.  A tiny part of her had thought that their first night together would cool her interests, but it had just the opposite effect on the pair of them.  Housemaids and guards had caught them kissing in various spots around the castle, earning her a quiet rebuke from her mother.  
  
"While I'm overjoyed that you like Lord Teagan, you must stop this behavior, Jenna.  The servants are beginning to talk."  Her mother whispered to her one evening after dinner.  "Besides, he's going home soon, and hasn't declared his intent to me or your father yet.  It wouldn't do for you to fall in love with him only to find out he wasn't serious."  
  
"Yes, of course, Mother."  Jenna had agreed, but privately hadn't been listening.  It was the night she was to see him again, just before his departure.  The whole idea of inviting men to come meet her struck her as ludicrous upon examination, they may as well have lined them up in the stable and invited her to pick one.  The process of it all was overly cumbersome and antiquated, and Jenna rejected it, planning on telling her Mother how she felt about Teagan.  
  
Something in Eleanor's visage stopped her, and Jenna simply gave her mother a reassuring look.  It was almost as if she knew and didn't want to hear it.  It puzzled Jenna for the time she spent thinking on it, which wasn't long, her thoughts distracted by her plans for the night.  
  
This time when he came in, she greeted him with a smile and a kiss, his hands at once going under her dressing gown to her skin beneath.  She'd forgone nightclothes, clad only in her smalls underneath.  Letting out a deliciously deep rumble of appreciation, Teagan wasted no time getting to her bed, her hands already undressing him.    
  
It was quicker and rougher the first time, tinged with a note of desperation, added by his impending departure.  They slept, he in her arms for a short time, rousing her with kisses to make love a second time, a grace note to their introduction to each other.  It hardly seemed like they'd just met, she'd come to care so deeply about him in such a short time.  He was like no other man that she'd met, certainly head and shoulders above any of the other suitors that had visited.  
  
"Teagan, I'm growing dangerously fond of you."  Jenna teased, her hand clasped within his larger one as they lay on the bed.  
  
"You should plan for a trip to Rainesfere.  I'll be sending for you and your mother as soon as I get back there.  Tell me what kind of food you like, and I'll make sure we have it."  He promised grandiosely, still filled with the ease that had settled over him.  
  
"Hmm,"  Jenna said, thinking.  "How about I send you a letter with all of those tiny little details in it, and you write one back?  That way I can tell my father that we grew so close I know your favorite color, and the kinds of books you read."  
  
Teagan laughed, but saw the wisdom in her words.  He'd never remember every detail, and it would be good to have them written down for reference.  "Alright then, write me as soon as you can."  
  
"As soon as you leave, more like.  My courier might beat you to Rainesfere."  
  
"I'd like to come home to a letter from you."  Teagan said, bringing her hand to his lips to kiss.  She closed her eyes at the touch, all at once too sad that this was the end of his visit.  
  
When he left, they stood in the doorway, she too besotted to think of all the consequences if they were seen.  Teagan kissed her, slowly and passionately, the two of them still covered by the night even though it would be dawn soon enough.  
  
Bryce Cousland stood in his own door, watching Teagan kiss Jenna.  It was clear to him what had transpired between the two, for their kiss was one of lovers.  Rage, unadulterated, blinding rage coursed through him, making him clench his fists to his side, but he stayed rooted to the spot, just watching.  Teagan didn't even turn his way when he finally left, going back to the nearby guest quarters.  He should have guessed that something like this would eventually happen, but that it was Teagan absolutely galled him.  
  
"Bryce, what are you doing?  Come back to bed."  Eleanor said to him.  She'd woken up from the draft he was letting in through the opened door, the chill tickling her cheek.  
  
"I couldn't get back to sleep and thought I would take a walk."  He tried to keep his voice calm and not alarm her, so he delivered the next line in an almost detached way, "And I've just seen Teagan leaving Jenna's room."  
  
Behind him, Eleanor sighed heavily.  "Come back to bed, Bryce.  There's nothing we can do besides wake the whole house up right now, and you don't want to rouse Oriana and the baby."  She got up and eased him back into bed.  "That's alright, dear.  I know it will come as a shock to you, but Jenna is not completely inexperienced in these matters.  There seems to be much affection between the two of them, so I would guess that this is different than the others."  
  
"You knew?  There were others?"  Bryce whirled around, unable to comprehend how his wife could be so calm about the matter.  
  
"Not about Teagan, but Bryce, someone had to teach her how to take care of herself!  No one wants a bastard Cousland sired by some stablehand because no one told Jenna how to prevent it."  Bryce started at the stablehand comment, a wild gleam in his eye, but Eleanor ignored it, pressing on.  "She's a fine, smart, responsible young woman.  While I'm not pleased to hear about this, don't worry yourself about this encounter.  Just worry about it if Teagan leaves tomorrow without making plans to see her again."  
  
"Yes, well, you leave that to me."  Bryce said resolutely.  
  
The next morning, before breakfast Bryce called on Teagan.  He was chipper although tired looking, in a relaxed mood before his journey.  
  
"Leave us."  Bryce ordered the servants.  The severity of his voice alarmed Teagan, who had never heard him be anything less than affable.  
  
"Teagan.  I gather you enjoyed your visit here."  
  
"Very much so.  Jenna is a wonderful woman, and I thank you for inviting me."  
  
"Why is it then that you spit in the face of my hospitality?"  Bryce was turning angry, truly furious, Teagan could feel it within him, threatening to spill over at any moment.  
  
"Bryce?"  Truly confused at how he'd caused offense, Teagan racked his brain, trying to remember if he'd inadvertently made a mistake.  
  
"My daughter, Teagan.  I saw you last night, leaving her chambers.  You have disrespected my house, and defiled my daughter.  Do you even care about her?  If you did, how could you do such a thing?"  
  
"Your daughter is fully capable of making her own decisions, which is why she objected to these matches in the first place."  Teagan replied, drawing himself up.  "Why don't you treat her as the wonderful, intelligent and fully competent adult she is?  Is she simply your daughter, or her own person?  And of course I care for Jenna, you know that."  He wanted to say more, how he disliked this idea from the beginning and was glad that he and Jenna had grown to care for each other despite it.  Bryce had been parading Jenna around like a showhorse for all the noble families in Ferelden - this couldn't have come as such a surprise.  
  
"Then why do this Teagan?"  There was hurt belying Bryce's query and it made the truth of the matter sting as he thought on it.  
  
He didn't know what to do or say, for there was nothing that could truly justify it to a father's eyes.  Deep within him, Teagan admitted that it had been madness brought on by lust and affection at first, but it was deeper now, more meaningful.  Bryce was leaning over him, red in the face and understandably angry, but Teagan was at a loss.  What could he say to the man to explain to him, to stop his anger?  There was nothing to do, he was leaving in a matter of hours, and if he didn't act, he'd likely never see Jenna again.  
  
"I'm sorry."  Teagan sputtered, repeating it several times as he got up.  He had dealt with an irate father before, but never a peer of the realm, someone he knew and respected.  Though he should have foreseen something like this, he hadn't, all of his thoughts had been on Jenna, how much he'd come to care for her in such a short time, how he couldn't bear to leave without surrendering to her touch once more. So foolish, foolish lust led him astray, threatening all he'd gained through his visit.  His head was reeling, and he could barely think, hardly breathe.  Jenna.  He needed to see Jenna again, he couldn't leave like this.  
  
Without stopping he rushed to her, knowing just from his short visit that she would likely be in the library, if she was already dressed for breakfast.  He hoped she was there, at any rate, knowing that Bryce would likely stop him from going into her quarters.    
  
"Will you marry me?"  Teagan asked as he burst into the room to see Jenna seated in a chair, reading while she waited for the breakfast bell.  
  
"What?"  Jenna sat down her book, looking up at him, shocked.  
  
"Whenever I'm alone with you, you make me feel...free.  I'm free with you, in a way I never expected."  He tried to explain, before her father caught up with him and forbade them.  "I can't lose you."  When he'd first arrived, he'd talked about not wanting what his sister had, respect and friendship without passionate love.  With Jenna, he thought he might have found all he wanted, for they were friends, and he certainly wanted her, but there was more, the first embers of love forming between them.    
  
Jenna laughed, still not understanding his meaning.  "You won't lose me just because you're leaving, Teagan.  I'll ask Mother right now if I can arrange a visit to Rainesfere like we talked about.  I swear I was going to start on your letter this afternoon."  She was rambling in a good-natured way, unaware that her father had confronted him.  
  
"Bryce saw me last night, leaving your quarters."  Teagan explained.  
  
"Oh."  Jenna said softly, slumping in her chair.  "Oh."  She repeated.  Suddenly she jumped up, wrapping her arms around Teagan.  "Yes."  She said, looking into his eyes.  It took him a minute to realize what she meant, that she was consenting to marry him.  
  
A wildness swept through him, and he felt elated.  Caution and discretion had always been hallmarks of his, and how freeing it was to throw it to the wind, to let things happen as they will.  He swung her around, making her squeak in surprise, the chair she'd been sitting in falling to the floor with a clatter.  Bryce finally caught up with him, just in time to see the two sealing the arrangement with a kiss.  
  
Incensed, Bryce walked over and forcibly separated the two, holding them apart by standing between them.  He turned his angry, growling face on Teagan, who simply explained.  
  
"Jenna's agreed to become my wife."  
  
The inarticulate yell that boomed through the corridors sent the servants scattering, and Eleanor Cousland started running towards the sound.  She arrived in time to see Jenna still being kept from Teagan by her father's outstretched arms, all three of them yelling, talking over each other, trying to be heard.  The din was deafening, all she could make out were partial phrases and a few words.  "Over my dead body,"  came from Bryce, while Jenna was shouting that she was an adult, and Teagan was saying something like, "Not a mistake."  
  
Eleanor shook her head miserably, before slamming the door behind her.  The group in front of her quieted and quelled under the look she gave them.  
  
"Let's sort all of this out before everyone in the castle thinks we've gone mad."  She said irritably, knowing that she was in for a very long discussion.


	8. Chapter 8

_"The housemaids are preparing to meet their new mistress, and I daresay that this old place has never looked nicer.  While I wish that you'd been permitted to visit before our wedding, I understand you have much planning to do on your end.  My brother, Eamon, has graciously agreed to host us at Castle Redcliffe, where you will be staying before the ceremony.  Jenna, I miss you more with each passing day and pray that you'll love it here as much as I do."_   - A letter to Jenna Cousland from Teagan Guerrin  
  
Eleanor had taken her to Denerim once the whole debacle with Teagan had been settled.  All in all, it hadn't gone too badly, though she wondered what would have happened if her mother hadn't shown up to referee.  Eleanor was in fine spirits after they'd had a missive from Queen Anora, who was newly wed herself, and congratulated Jenna on her engagement to Teagan.  As uncle to King Cailan, Teagan had already sent word to the Royal Palace of their impending marriage.    
  
Jenna and Eleanor had undertaken the short trip to the capital city ostensibly to have a wedding gown and proper dresses made for her new married life, but Jenna knew it was also to get her out of Highever.  Her father hadn't taken to the idea of her marrying Teagan, though before Teagan left, he did shake his hand and welcome him to the family.    
  
After much yelling and pointed reminder from her mother about 'how they were' before they wed.  Teagan left hours late, though it was only late morning when they got on the road.  Fergus, who had no idea how the whole mess came to be, was much more enthusiastic, hugging Teagan a few times and calling him brother.  It put a damper on her preparations, knowing how distraught her father was over the match and how it came to be.  
  
Bryce hadn't even come out to the carriage to see them off to Denerim, instead saying goodbye to Jenna, rather stiffly, at the breakfast table.  He hadn't called her pup, her nickname from childhood, since Teagan had left, and it bothered her more than she liked to admit.  Though she was close with both of her parents, her father had always understood her a little better, and she had tried so very hard to make him proud.  Hearing him bellowing at her and Teagan, the way he'd looked at her, as if he didn't know her at all, it had just torn her heart to pieces.    
  
As much as she cared for Teagan, Jenna regretted her rash actions, though if she had the chance to redo it, she had to admit to her self that it was likely that she would still have bedded him.  At least once anyway, though with the clarity of hindsight she thought perhaps not that second time.  Still, the unintended outcome of their mess hadn't changed her feelings for him, and the two corresponded regularly, his bundle of letters had provided the lone bright spot before she'd left Highever.  It did, however, cast a pall over her trip and wedding planning, causing a gloom that made itself known in Denerim.  
  
"Darling, look at this fabric!  It looks as if it's straight from Orlais.  I wonder if she could make you a chemise in this."  Eleanor said, but Jenna only nodded absently, looking around the shop distractedly.  
  
"Oh, Jenna."  Eleanor was by her side, hugging her daughter to her.  "This was supposed to be a fun trip, to help you forget."  
  
"Father is still so angry at me.  And Teagan."  
  
Eleanor shook her head, clucking her tongue. "Not angry, not really.  Disappointed maybe, but for the wrong reasons.  He's mourning the loss of his little girl, finally seeing you as a woman.  It may have been a bit of a rude awakening, but he'll get over it, you'll see."  
  
Jenna wasn't mollified by the words, and tears filled her eyes as she spoke.  "I did make a mistake.  What we did was inappropriate."  
  
"And you apologized.  That's all you can do now.  What's done is done, but I am glad to see you still have a sense of propriety."  Eleanor sniffed.    She wasn't, truth be told, taking it all that well herself, but she did what she could not to show it to Jenna, choosing to focus on the more positive aspects.    
  
"Besides, look at all the good that has come of it.  It isn't the way I would have wished it by far, but you know your heart, and I trust the decision you've made.  You picked a good man, and I won't worry about you after you're married.  I'll miss you, but not worry, because Teagan cares for you, that's plain enough to see.  And he did the honorable thing, even Bryce admitted that once he calmed down."  
  
Jenna smiled at that, the mention of Teagan easing some of her pain.  "And I him, Mother."  
  
"Well, that's all we ever wanted for you, so there's nothing for anyone to be upset about.  I'll admit, it is hard, as a mother to see your children growing beyond your reach, but I promised myself I would endure it gracefully."  She finished as the seamstress came over to her holding a bolt of dusky rose colored silk.  Eleanor nodded at it, approving the fabric silently, but for what sort of apparel, Jenna could only guess.  
  
"Make her a full set of bridal clothes, for days and nights, and a selection of new dresses for her newlywed days.  Make some of them velvet dresses, and a few brocade.  I think a new woolen cape too, she's moving quite far to the south, and their winters are dreadful."  Eleanor instructed to a woman nearby taking notes.  "I do so worry about the cold down south."  She murmured absently.    
  
Around them, people scurried, mostly women but a couple of men and more than a few elves, all working quickly, following the orders given by the Teyrna.  Jenna saw her mother lean in and whisper something to the woman, who nodded in understanding, glancing surreptitiously at Jenna.    
  
After they took her measurements, they were off again, to commission new bridal jewels, in addition to the ones that were being passed down to her.  The enormity of their task seemed to just dawn on Jenna, and she began to fret.  
  
"Mother, I'll need new bed linens and towels, and maybe plates too.  I have no idea what Teagan has.  We never spoke of it."  Jenna said, frowning.  All of it had seemed to silly in the abstract, but she had a measure more of understanding now, the undertaking seemingly endless once she'd started.  Plus she'd never had much of a head for the endless household tasks, and she was more than a little intimidated to think of running her own house.  
  
"Don't worry dear, we'll see to all of that.  That's what we're here for."  Eleanor was ever calm, even as they walked through the marketplace.  
  
"What did you say to that seamstress back there, when you whispered to her?"  
  
"To make you a few dresses that could be let out if you should be with child."  
  
"Mother!"  Jenna exclaimed, then lowered her voice before continuing, "I've been diligent in taking the prevention herbs."  
  
Eleanor gave her a sly look, her green eyes shining.  "I know darling, but it isn't for now, it's for once you're married.  I only have one grandchild, I could do with another."  
  
She opened the door to the next shop, which was the jeweler.  Jenna sighed, wondering exactly what bridal jewelry consisted of, and exactly how much of it she would need.  Eleanor at least, seemed to be pleased with their progress, and her attitude in Denerim didn't reflect what came before it in Highever.  
  
Perhaps it was a good sign, that the worst had already passed and that it would be better times for Jenna and Teagan ahead.  She certainly hoped so.  
  
######  
  
At Castle Redcliffe, the Arlessa Isolde sat at a desk in the study with her brother-in-law, writing a letter to Teyrna Eleanor Cousland.  Teagan, though a wonderful man, had no idea what to tell his new bride about household matters, and when Isolde inquired about Jenna's trousseau, he had merely shrugged, clearly without a clue to what she was referring.   
  
"Teagan, your bride needs to know what to bring to set up a household, to start her life with you."  Isolde was trying to explain in a patient voice.  
  
"I have a household."  Teagan replied obstinately.   "She just needs to come here."  
  
Isolde shook her head wearily, willing patience into her voice.  "No, Teagan, your house will be different once you are married. The two of you sharing a home is different than a man living alone.  Her mother, the Teyrna, will know what I mean.  She is young, yes?  She will need help."  
  
Her quill scratched against the parchment as she wrote, stopping to think and question Teagan every few minutes.  "In Orlais,"  she began, "young women start their trousseau early, and have carved chests made of the most wonderful cedar, full to bursting of the things they will need."  
  
Comprehension dawned on Teagan and he rolled his eyes at Isolde, not for the first time that night.  "You mean her bridal chest?"  He asked, and Isolde nodded.  He smiled, thinking about how Jenna said it was full of seashells and mabari treats.  "She made one when she was younger, though as to the contents, you may want to check with Eleanor."  He informed her.  She nodded, continuing to write without looking at him.  "Why are you writing that?  I have plates, I don't eat off the floor like a barbarian, you know."  
  
"Teagan, hush."  Isolde said, concentrating, her distraction making her accent even more pronounced.    
  
He raised his gaze heavenward, hoping that Jenna was at least finding some fun in this tedium.  There were only ten weeks before they would wed - it was his idea to help abate some of Bryce's obvious objections.  If she was with child, she wouldn't be that far along during the wedding.    
  
He didn't think she was, certainly none of her letters had indicated so, and they'd kept up a correspondence since he'd left Highever.  It was only when he read the letters did he feel as if he truly knew her, the letters much less guarded than she'd been during his visit.  He saved every one, admiring the elegance of her hand, the secrets both mundane and fascinating that she committed to the heavy linen paper that carried faint touches of her scent.  
  
Eamon strolled into the room, and took one look at the situation before inviting Teagan to share a drink with him in another part of the castle.  Leaving Isolde alone to compose her letter, the two brothers went off, settling into a room with a warm fire and armchairs.  They had taken an early dinner, and a bottle of brandywine was brought for them, the two of them sipping at the drink from specially made crystal snifters Eamon commissioned from a specialist in Denerim.  
  
"Tell me the whole story about why you're marrying Jenna Cousland."  Eamon began, and Teagan sighed.  They hadn't spoken much on the subject of his visit, other than to offer a terse explanation about their involvement, and run in with Bryce.  
  
"Why I'm marrying her is because I care for her and I've compromised her."  Teagan said, frowning.  He wondered how much he'd actually have to say to satisfy Eamon, and resolved to reveal only as much as needed.  
  
"And she was quite happy to be compromised."  
  
Teagan shook his head, frown deepening.  "Yes, well, true though that may be, I am a little more experienced in such matters and should have been more cautious.  Though if Bryce hadn't seen us, we'd be here now preparing for her visit.  I was, am, quite taken with her."  
  
"Enough to marry her?"  Eamon asked shrewdly.  The light from the fire cast shadow over his face, making his brother look older than his years.  His once vibrant red hair and beard had slowly turned to ash blond and then began to grey, though the dim light brought out of the last embers of auburn within the mix.  
  
"I think so, eventually."  Teagan shrugged and took a drink.  It burned in his chest, fading almost immediately to a pleasant sensation.  "At the time, with Bryce standing over me, I couldn't bear the thought of not seeing her again, so I cut him off, and ran out of the room to ask for her hand.  It was rash, but I didn't even want to risk the alternative."  
  
Eamon whistled through his teeth.  "That's not like you at all."  
  
"Can't be cautious my whole life."  
  
"But this - Jenna, are you sure about her?  She's quite a bit younger than you, perhaps given to flights of fancy.  Before you didn't even know what she looked like, and I can't say I'm overly impressed with her method of greeting her suitors."  
  
At that, Teagan bristled, turning away from his brother.  Eamon spoke up again, his voice apologetic.  "Forget I mentioned that last part.  It's none of my business.  I could have spoken to Bryce on your behalf, worked something out.  I still could if you like."  
  
"I am certain about her."  Teagan said, blowing out a tired breath.  "It's just...we spent the whole visit mocking the seriousness of it all, these arranged meetings and everyone trying to sell her to me as the next Andraste.  She's quite funny, you know."  Teagan smiled off into the distance, his eyes clouded with memory.  "It's strange that it would have ended up like this between us when neither one of us was really thinking of marriage."  
  
At that, Eamon smiled over his steepled fingers.  "That's how it always goes.  I've never heard of anyone planning on falling in love."  
  
After that the subject drifted towards other topics, though Eamon still asked a question or two here and there when it was appropriate.  Teagan got the feeling that he hadn't really given his brother an accurate indication of his bride, how intelligent and forceful she was, graceful with a dagger and quick with a quip, but lovely and honest, so different than the motley mix of people that lounged about the Royal Court trying to snag a noble suitor.  Though their topic had changed, he could sense the unease that Eamon had regarding the whole relationship.  Hopefully, when she came to Redcliffe, he'd see and at least give his blessing to their union.


	9. Chapter 9

The short period of her engagement went quickly enough once mother and daughter returned from their trip to Denerim, and Jenna and Bryce mended their relationship at Eleanor's urging.  It was difficult for both father and daughter, but neither one wanted her to leave without repairing the rift.    
  
Though she was loathe to admit it, the thought of not having her father's blessing for her wedding distressed Jenna greatly.  It cast a pall on her preparations for the celebration, and even clouded Eleanor's enjoyment while in the city.  Despite speaking with her husband at length upon their return to Highever, Eleanor knew it was her daughter that would have to take the first step towards reconciliation.  With that in mind, she advised her daughter, hoping that she would find the courage to speak up sooner rather than later.    
  
At her mother's behest, Jenna let go of the anger that had come from the situation, and tried to think of it from all sides.  She could clearly see her own argument, that she was a woman grown, free to make her own decisions and take lovers, but she began to see her father's side as well.  Jenna approached him after dinner one night, when he'd just finished playing with the baby Oren and had a more favorable disposition.  She'd confessed the whole ordeal to Oriana upon her return, and knew that her sister in law would tell Fergus, but couldn't keep it in any longer.  It felt as if her actions had fractured the house, and keeping it secret made everyone walk on eggshells without knowing why.  
  
"Father."  Jenna found him one night in the armory, where he often went to clear his thoughts.  
  
He turned to see face her, and she noticed for the first time he looked a little uncomfortable around her.  It pained her further and made her want to abandon the idea, but she knew if they were to speak normally again, she would need to summon her courage and make this first step.  
  
"Hello, Jenna."  Bryce said softly.  "Do you have a message for me?"  
  
"I do."  
  
"What is it then?"  
  
"It's from me.  I just wanted to say that I am sorry, again, for what you saw.  I'm sorry because it hurt you, and took something precious away from our relationship.  Part of me wants to be defiant and tell you that I am an adult, and I may do as I wish, but really, I don't even want to have that discussion anymore.  I just want you to know that I'm sorry things have changed, and I'd give anything for you to call me pup again."  
  
"Is that all?"  He asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest.  His expression was unreadable, and no matter how desperately she looked for a sign, she could find no hint of his thoughts betrayed in his countenance.  
  
"That's all, Father.  I couldn't go south without saying it, at least.  I love you."  Jenna waited, hoping that Bryce would say something, anything at all.  When he didn't, the air between them grew awkward and strained, and she shook her head miserably.  Tears stung her eyes as she slowly shuffled towards the door.    
  
Her father's hand closed over her wrist, stopping her with the one motion.  "Ah, pup, I'm sorry I've been so upset.  It's hard to see you getting further away from me, but I am glad that you care for Teagan."  Bryce folded his daughter into an embrace, and Jenna began to sob against his chest.  Stroking her hair, he shushed her, feeling foolish for letting himself be angry at her for so long.  
  
"Did you know that I chose Teagan for you?"  Bryce asked, and Jenna nodded, still crying into the already damp front of his doublet.  He laughed, the sound only a little brittle to her ears.  "I thought that he might be a better match than those young hotheads that kept sniffing around you.  Little did I know that he'd be just as entranced by your charms.  But it was the right thing, inviting him here.  You were so happy, pup, did you know that?  Your little face lit up like I've never seen when you talked to him at dinner, and the two of you were well-matched during the hunt.  I can't begrudge your the man for falling in love with you, even if he is taking you to the other end of Ferelden."  
  
He hugged her to him, holding her the way only a parent could comfort a child, tender and stern, forgiving and expecting her to do better.  They stood together for a while, until her tears subsided and he kissed her forehead.  
  
"I've always been proud of you, pup.  Never forget that.  You've always done your duty like a Cousland should."  
  
"Thank you, Father."  Jenna said in a choked voice.  She left soon after, what she needed to say done, her heart lighter for doing it.      
  
It was a while before Bryce could make himself get up, thinking about his daughter, the first time he held her tiny body in his arms, the little wisps of black hair that framed her sleeping face.  She'd grown up so fast - strong and beautiful, but she was still his little girl in so many ways, and he was going to miss her terribly.  
  
######  
  
After apologizing to Bryce, things between them took some time to get back to normal, but Jenna felt happier as she planned her wedding.  She listened attentively to both her mother and Oriana when they talked about it, and she found herself swept up in the enthusiasm.  The weeks passed with unnatural haste, much too soon for all involved except for Jenna and Teagan.  Letters flowed between the two of them, strengthening the bond they'd made in Highever, them courting by parchment and ink as they would have done in person.  
  
Whenever a satchel of letters arrived from Highever, his heart leapt.  Most were penned by Jenna, though some from her parents or their seneschal bearing instructions or cordial greetings and preparation updates.  It was no easy thing to move from one end of Ferelden to the other in a matter of weeks.  Even through ink and paper, their coolness was evident, keeping him at a distance.  He suspected that Eleanor was displeased with him greatly, for his lust and folly had upended their lives, and whatever her parents claimed, neither would be ready to see Jenna leave their household.  
  
He early in the morning, and after a simple breakfast, read Jenna's last letter again, and then replaced it in the locked box in his private quarters.  They sustained him, for he had his moments of wondering if the whole affair was folly, but then read something that reminded him of his time in Highever, of how besotted he'd become with Jenna, and it reaffirmed the affection he had for her.  Teagan, for his part, didn't have to make half the arrangements towards their wedding day, his thoughts more engaged with their long-term well-being.  It was with that in mind that he headed out to his stable, checking on his horses and livestock as he did nearly every day.    
  
Due to his close proximity to Orlais, Teagan was one of the few nobles of Ferelden that had horses of his own.   It was such a rare thing, that even his brother, Eamon could not boast of such a luxury, though Teagan made his horses and carriage avail to his arl.  Most hired carriages were pulled by lesser animals, donkeys and the like, the few who had horses were reserved for the royalty and nobility.  It had been a trade, years back from a traveler who had lost much on his journey and didn't wish to feed horses that didn't carry packs.    
  
"Dust, how is everything today?"  Teagan asked quietly upon entering the stable, though he was sure that Dust knew he was there.    
  
Dust was an older man, with sun-weathered skin and kind dark eyes, who had trained his sons to care for and raise horses and had seen them go on to good households.  He preferred to stay in Rainesfere, preferring Teagan's distance from the courtly life and politics, the charm of the country over the luxury he could have.  It was exactly the same reason why Teagan himself stayed in his remote part of the Bannorn instead of his apartments in Denerim more often.  Life in the city oft gave him headaches, and he had no desire to gossip and play courtly games, but taking care of his lands and people - that was what he could do, and tried to do well.  
  
"Aye, all's well, Bann Teagan."  His light eyes roamed over Teagan, taking in all the details.  "Getting concerned about the state of things before your new bride comes?"  He asked.  
  
"Well, yes."  Teagan answered with a sheepish half-laugh.  "But I'm told all grooms get such jitters."  
  
"Maybe not all."  Dust said, but he amended his answer.  "It speaks well of you that you are one of that number, my lord.  I hope your lady takes to life here."  
  
"I've no doubt she will."  Teagan said.  "Jenna...my lady Cousland is as smart as she is beautiful, a great hunter who prefers life in Highever to the bustle of Denerim.  She will find a place here, I'm sure of it."  
  
His words were laced with the boldness of someone in love, and Dust, recognizing the unintentional boasting, chuckled his understanding.  Time would tell for Teagan and his bride, though he hoped his lord was right about her.    
  
"We're all quite happy for you, my lord.  We await the day to meet our new mistress."  Dust said, giving Teagan a quick bow of his head to indicate his loyalty.    
  
"Thank you, Dust.  She'll be here soon enough, and pray, there is work to do before she arrives.  Tell me, how fares the sow?"  He asked, redirecting their conversation back towards business.  They spoke pleasantly enough of the duties of his steading and how the greater population of his people fared.  Winters were known to be a trial in the south, and he planned accordingly each year, doing his best to ensure that his people were well tended before the season set on.    
  
The skepticism he encountered was nothing new, ever since his engagement had been announced, few of his subjects had been convinced it was a love match.  The maids in his own house had been appalled that he'd come back from Highever engaged, and even now they gossiped incessantly about it, speculating about Jenna.  
  
He didn't have the words to convince anyone about Jenna, their impressions would be formed once she arrived.  In his mind, he spoke truly about her, but noted the guardedness of many when he did.  Time could change their conclusions, should they be open to it.    
  
All Teagan knew for sure was that she'd arrive in Rainesfere very soon, and he was going to do his best to make the transition easy for her.  Simply getting married would have been enough change for most, but he worried about how she'd take the move - Redcliffe, though the closest and biggest town around, wasn't half the size of Highever.  He moved along, going through his duties for the day with his usual dillengece, thoughts on Jenna.  With all his good intentions, there was only so much he could do.  It would take time to adjust, for both of them.


	10. Chapter 10

Castle Cousland was as busy it had been before Fergus's wedding, though they were not hosting the blessed event. Perhaps they were even more because of it, Redcliffe was so far from Highever. A full compliment of Highever soldiers would accompany them to Redcliffe, the castle armorer working overtime to make sure their festive armor could withstand the long march. Oriana, having gone through similar herself, sought to speak with her sister-in-law, the fevered pitch of the castle making her relive the days before her own wedding.  
  
"Sister, you're making me want to get married all over again!" Oriana said to her one day, while Jenna was showing her some of the new dresses that had been delivered to Highever for her bridal chest.  
  
"I'm so excited. Not to leave home, but to go on, do you know what I mean?"  
  
"Absolutely. I felt the same way when I was to move here with Fergus. I miss Antiva from time to time, especially when the rains start here, but being here is better."  
  
Jenna smiled. "I hope it's like that for me as well."  
  
"It will be." Oriana replied. "You've already infected the whole of the castle with your good cheer. I daresay all of Rainesfere will be the happiest place in Ferelden once you arrive."  
  
Jenna laughed, picturing farmers and traders with smiles plastered on their faces as they went about their work.  
  
"I'll miss you all dearly." Jenna confided. Oriana and Fergus wouldn't be traveling with them to Redcliffe for the wedding, just their parents. She'd see them again in the spring in Denerim, but that seemed so far in the future, much would happen between her wedding and the spring.  
  
"You'll be missed here, but dear sister, your new life as a married woman awaits. I'm sure Bann Teagan will be good to you, he was so taken with you when he was here."  
  
Jenna smiled at the comment, her mind drifting to thoughts of Teagan, as it did so often these days. It felt as if it had been ages since she'd seen him, and the anticipation excited her, wanting more than to just read his letters. As if Oriana could read her mind, she spoke again, "You'll see him soon enough. Don't waste your last days here wishing you were already gone."  
  
It was sound enough advice, and Jenna took it to heart, she wanted to enjoy these last days in Highever. Stopping only to kiss her sleeping nephew, she made her way to the kitchens to talk to her old nanny. Castle Cousland had been her whole life growing up, and as eager as she was for the future, leaving it behind was daunting.  
  
#####  
  
If there was any doubt about how much Teagan and Jenna genuinely liked each other, it was dispelled once the Couslands came to Redcliffe.  
  
Upon arriving, Jenna jumped from the carriage, running at full tilt towards Teagan. While her parents were dressed in finery, she was clad in her familiar leather armor, though she didn't have her bow or daggers on her back, just a knife at her waist. He caught her once she collided with him, lifting her off the ground, the two of them spinning around together, laughing. The heat of her seeped through her armor to his clothes, and he hugged her to him, taking her all in. The happy sound of her laughter, her dark hair swinging - he savored it all, having been deprived of her for far too long. Their embrace ended with a short kiss, much too short for Teagan's liking, but he was mindful of their audience.  
  
"Welcome to Redcliffe, Jenna." He said to her, as his brother Eamon echoed the sentiment to her parents. Greetings were exchanged all around, the Couslands talking of their journey.  
  
"Teagan. I can't tell you how glad I am to finally be here!" Jenna said, punctuating her words with a small squeeze of his hand. How he'd missed the feeling of it without understanding the depth of her absence. With her at his side, he felt energized, like the clouds had parted and left behind a dazzling sun.  
  
Jenna was glad to be out of the carriage, stretching her limbs as she stood beside Teagan. Their ride to Redcliffe had been long and she'd been too long without the opportunity to stand upright. It had been hard to say goodbye in Highever, Fergus and Oriana staying behind to take care of the castle and their baby, but promising to visit her in the spring in Denerim.  
  
The roads hadn't been too treacherous, but they had traveled through rain. Some of her belongings had been transported ahead of time, and she was glad for it, their absence lightened the load. Still, they had a great deal with them, for she wouldn't be going to Teagan's home in Rainesfere until after their wedding, once it had become her home too. That thought nearly undid her, that she was on the cusp of actually beginning a completely different life from the one she'd known.  
  
Instead of dwelling on the change, Jenna focused on the parts that made her happy. In that regard, there was so much at the moment, her mind going over the best of it all - Teagan, and being with him, her impending wedding, how pleased her parents were for her, even though that victory had been so hard-won. His letters and words had sustained her these past weeks, and she found herself reliving his visit to the castle, thinking of him in the dark of night when her hands found their way to all the spots he'd last kissed. It wouldn't be long before he could lavish them with attention again.  
  
Jenna noticed that she and Teagan weren't left alone in each other's company before the ceremony, but it was fine with her. It amused her that they thought them so incapable of controlling themselves that they needed a constant chaperon, as if they weren't going to married soon enough. She took her chances to speak with him when she could, renewing their hastily established relationship, but such opportunities only existed within the sight of others. Eamon watched them covertly, as did her parents and the arlessa, but neither she nor Teagan cared about their assessments. Apparently, only the noble wedding guests that were filling Castle Redcliffe were unaware or disinterested.  
  
Nervous energy flooded through her that first night after their journey, and she found herself laughing too loud, and talking too much at dinner. She needed time to think, to rest, but all she could think of was that in two days time, she would be married to Teagan. Jenna had no expectations of what her life would be like, having spent no time in Redcliffe. She'd been to Orlais once, and west to Denerim often, but hadn't ventured further south the Bann Loren's lands.  
  
Teagan wanted to calm her, but didn't know how much help he could really be. He was also feeling similar, but had an easier time hiding his nerves. It crossed his mind that had they been alone, he could have calmed her or at least reassured her mind, but he knew that seeing her privately was not an option.  
  
Still, he called upon her the next day, finding her and Eleanor in the library after luncheon. He didn't envy the Couslands their long trip, having made it himself, and knew that they would be resting whenever they could for the next day. Isolde had stepped up, taking charge so that Eleanor could spend time with her daughter.  
  
Jenna was a little more calm after a night's rest, but still, not at her best. Teagan didn't ask for privacy, but greeted both mother and daughter cordially, before turning away to speak to Jenna.  
  
"Are you well, Jenna?" He asked, taking her hand. It was a small gesture, and much less than the kiss he wanted to give her, but contented himself with the feel of her hand in his.  
  
"As can be expected, I suppose. Too keyed up to sleep very well." She admitted. Eleanor turned a page in her book, but Teagan saw her watching them out of the corner of her eye and knew she was no longer reading. "And you, Teagan, how are you?"  
  
Teagan laughed, not sure how to give voice to the multitude of emotions that wrested within him. "I don't know, my lady. Happy to see you again, but a little surprised at how quickly the time has passed. It felt slow without your presence, but yet, here we are a day away from our wedding."  
  
"Oh, that reminds me, I have something for you.  I wanted to give it to you before the wedding." Jenna said, pulling away from him. "It won't take but a moment." She said, and walked from the room.  
  
Teagan glanced over at Eleanor, who was still sitting in the chair by the fire, a book in her lap, but she didn't look up to meet his gaze. Moments later, Jenna returned, panting slightly and bearing a long, brown wrapped box that she'd obviously brought from Highever.  
  
"Open it." She said, thrusting it at him. "It's a wedding gift, something to wear, if it suits you."  
  
"I hadn't realized we were exchanging gifts now."  
  
"It isn't customary." Eleanor's voice floated over from her chair, "but I daresay my darling girl wanted to see the look on your face, Teagan."  
  
"Well, I hope my face doesn't disappoint."  He answered, making Jenna giggle as he sat down in a chair with his gift. Teagan unwrapped the box, sliding it from the paper that covered it, revealing a long, jeweled case that could only hold a sword. When he opened the latch, his breath caught at the sight of the weapon within it.  
  
It was a sword, red steel and of superb craftsmanship, the silver hilt was adorned with tiny diamonds. Practical was well as beautiful, he saw that it had been made for him, a sword that was to be used by someone who also carried a shield. The thoughtfulness of the gift nearly overwhelmed him, rendering him mute.  
  
"Go on and try it." Jenna laughed, correctly discerning his desire.  Teagan turned it over again, admiring the shining blade, watching the diamonds sparkle in the light of the room.  "I've got a matching knife you know, some didn't think it was proper for me to carry a dagger at the wedding." She said, shooting a look over at her mother as she spoke. Eleanor didn't make any indication she'd heard her daughter, but was watching the two of them with a smile of her own.  
  
"Another time, and in a less crowded room, perhaps." He said wisely. Though he sorely wanted to test his princely blade, he decided against it in Eamon's library. Securing it back in the decorative box, he stood and placed it on the long table in the room before turning back to Jenna.  
  
"Eleanor?" Teagan murmured, asking his request with just the one word. His soon to be mother-in-law nodded quickly and Teagan reached out for Jenna.  
  
"It's beautiful. I'm honored to wear it on our wedding day." He whispered, pulling her close for a kiss. For a moment, Jenna was stiff with shock, but rallied almost immediately, softening her lips against his, sliding an arm up around his neck. Dangerous heat threatened to overtake him and make their kiss far less chaste, but he restrained himself, even when he felt Jenna's tongue tease his lips.  
  
And then it was over, neither wanting to push the bounds of Eleanor's tolerance. It was more than Teagan had expected, far more, but he wasn't a greedy man. He and Jenna would be wed soon enough, and he had plans for their first few nights as husband and wife. Bidding them both goodbye, until dinner, he took his gift and departed, still giddy from the combination of the sword and her kiss.  
  
He had his own gifts for Jenna, all of them at his house, for tradition dictated that he give them to the bride the morning after the wedding. It occurred to him that he could send a servant for them, but decided against it in the end. There was just so little time before the wedding, and he thought they might make her feel more welcome once she was no longer surrounded by family.


	11. Chapter 11

The appointed day arrived, and amidst much chanting and the cloying perfume of Chantry incense, Teagan and Jenna were wed. It was strange, but when the day came, Jenna found that she was less nervous than she had been before. The transition felt natural, and she was peaceful and happy once the wait was over. The only thing that gave her pause was the mixture of emotions she coming from her parents. Festive and foreboding, happy and sad, she understood them all, but within her the felicity won out, too enamored of her groom to let bleakness take hold.  
  
Their wedding ceremony was short and relatively small for two families of their stature, though still had a number of people in attendance. As Teagan was a relative to King Cailan by marriage, and the King and Queen were unable to leave Denerim, they sent a representative. Surprisingly, it was Queen Anora's father, General Loghain that attended in their stead, his duties to the crown had him near the area at the time. Jenna had grown up in awe of the man, and Teagan respected him.  
  
After the formal wedding, marked with much kneeling and prayers by the priestess, there was music, food and dancing. Teagan and Jenna had one last task before they were officially married in the eyes of the Chantry - to sign the binding contract. In a small room off the chapel in Castle Redcliffe, Jenna Haelia Cousland became Lady Jenna Guerrin with a final blessing from the Mother who'd performed their ceremony before she bowed her way from the room.  
  
Teagan took no time in capitalizing on their seclusion, taking her in his arms at once. "Well, well, it's been a long time since we were alone together, Jenna."  
  
"And I take it you've missed me?" She teased, curling into his embrace.  
  
"You have no idea how many times I've thought of those nights in Highever. It was all that sustained me, those memories and knowing you'd be here soon."  
  
Jenna smirked at her new husband, "I would think less talk would be in order then."  
  
This kiss sealed their union in a way that the vestal, polite kiss at the altar had not. His mouth captured hers, demanding in its need. Jenna raked a hand through Teagan's hair as their tongues met, her fervor matching his. She swallowed a moan when he pulled her closer, so close that she could feel the heat of him through the veridium armor he wore.   
  
Teagan brought out such desire in her it felt like a fever, and she wanted nothing more than to skip the pleasantries and go straight to her marriage bed. It was too late in the season for them to enjoy a honeymoon - there was far too much work to do to prepare for winter, but they would lie in for a few days, and visit Denerim in the spring. For the first time, Jenna envied those that had the luxury to go off to Antiva or Orlais for weeks and do nothing but enjoy each other. She'd thought that she wouldn't miss the differences between the highly planned and prepared weddings that normally took a year or longer, preferring to rush to the end. In that moment, she knew an inkling of regret, wondering what could have been, had they the time to court and plan.  
  
Her good sense was aware that they didn't have the privacy nor the time to go any further, but she wanted it. They were nearly alone, and so long separated, her thoughts strayed towards closing the door and disrobing, though she'd wanted to save it for that night. Any romantic notions she'd held as a young woman were gone with her virginity, but she held onto this one thing, wanting it to be as special as she could make it.  
  
With that in mind, she pulled away from Teagan, who seemed intent on kissing her until her knees gave way. It took all her effort to ignore the want that roared out for more, to let him push her against the door and let the guests hear as he claimed her, but Jenna steadied herself.   
  
"Tonight." Jenna rasped, only able to get out the one word.  
  
Teagan nodded, mute in his understanding. A finger brushed her hair away from her face, the gesture a small one, but his touch made it feel so intimate that she shivered. Had she her way, they'd be halfway to his stead in Rainesfere before anyone even knew they were gone.  
  
Re-entering the room hand in hand, they were greeted with cheers and applause from their assembled guests. They hadn't opted for a formal dinner, but an informal one, and Jenna moved amongst the crowd, accepting her congratulations and making small talk with her guests. Teagan tried to imitate her lead, but to no avail, he'd never been one that could work a room. He was a poor host, but thankfully, Eamon, Isolde and the Couslands were there to take up the slack. After a few attempts, he retreated to a corner of the room, where he simply watched Jenna. It was no surprise when Loghain came over - he was even less sociable than Teagan.   
  
Loghain was scowling at the wine glass in his hand, making no attempt to talk to Teagan, who had had eyes only for the bride. Setting aside his glass, he reluctantly began to speak, because he didn't want to seem rude, and hadn't even offered the most perfunctory of remarks. Loghain's interest had been occupied by Bryce Cousland, and he'd been eying the other teyrn suspiciously earlier, but made no mention of it as he congratulated Teagan.   
  
"She's a very beautiful girl." He said honestly, shaking hands with Teagan.  
  
"Yes, she is." He agreed, not inclined to be modest about his good fortune on his wedding day.  
  
Jenna was still filtering through the room, speaking to guests, but making her way towards Teagan at long last. He could hear her laughter growing closer, and every so often she'd smile at him over her shoulder, the lights glinting off the tiny jewels still nestled in her hair. Her wedding dress was a silvery grey, trimmed in blue piping, the colors of her beloved Highever. It shimmered in the light of the fire as she moved through the room.   
  
"Tell me this," Loghain interrupted Teagan as he watched Jenna. "I've been a soldier a long time, and I can tell when someone is armed. Is she wearing one or two daggers?"  
  
"Probably three, if she has on boots under her gown." Teagan said. "And there's a knife at her hip." He gestured to the sparkling hilt of a ceremonial knife that she had on her waist. It blended in so well, none thought it strange to see.  
  
"It matches your sword." Loghain noticed. "A wedding gift?"  
  
"She's very practical."  
  
"I'll say." Loghain countered dryly, not sure what to make of young Jenna Cousland.  
  
She joined them not long after that, slipping her arm through Teagan's as Loghain congratulated them once again.  
  
"My Lady Guerrin, you have my congratulations on your wedding. A most blessed event." Loghain offered.  
  
"Thank you, General Loghain. Please, call me Jenna. I'm not quite used to hearing my new name yet, I confess."  
  
"Yes, I imagine it might be a bit disconcerting at first. Tell me, why are you armed on your wedding day?"  
  
Jenna laughed, surprising Loghain. "Was I that obvious? I just don't like to be without my arms, as I am sure you can understand." She answered, nodding towards his armor.  
  
"This is more than just ceremony, my lady. It is a reminder, of all Ferelden endured and I wear it to make sure that it is remembered."  
  
"Mine is more than just ceremony as well, General. I am a child of all Ferelden fought for and endured. I am Fereldan down to my bones, and I cannot lay down my arms and forget that legacy for one moment, even one so happy as my own wedding. When it comes to it, I'd rather be armed and not need them then be caught unawares."  
  
The answer shocked Loghain, who studied her for a moment, and then let out an unexpected chuckle. "I believe _you_ are Fereldan to your bones. It is refreshing to know that all we fought for hasn't been so easily forgotten by some." His eyes betrayed him as they flicked over towards Eamon, who was standing with his arm around the Arlessa Isolde. Teagan sighed; apparently prejudice wasn't set aside at any occasion.  
  
After a few dances with his new wife, and far too many toasts of the fine wine that had been bought especially for the occasion, Teagan was able to make an escape with Jenna. She changed from her bridal dress, the trip wasn't lengthy but it was long _enough_ that sitting in it would grow uncomfortable, and her mother had laid out specially made traveling clothes for just such a need. It was nearly evening when they were loaded into their carriage, but only just as their many well-wishers waved them away. They let her go with some reluctance, Bryce holding onto her hand forlornly as he said goodbye.  
  
The newlyweds set off together, the trip to Jenna's new home not a long trip at all after the distance traveled from Highever. Teagan insisted that his matched bays would make short work of the distance, and that they would have ample time to settle in for the night. She didn't know how to judge it, and neglected to ask before they set out. On the morrow, her family would come to visit, bringing the rest of their wedding gifts and belongings from Redcliffe castle.


	12. Chapter 12

Their carriage arrived at Rainesfere after the sun set, and Jenna only got the faintest inkling of what her new home looked like from the outside. Inside, it was a somewhat modest manor house, comfortably appointed, but it bore the sparse decor of a bachelor. Jenna looked around, taking in her surroundings. Aside from a few hunting trophies, there was little to indicate Teagan's tastes and preferences. It merely hinted at them, and she wondered if her mother had suspected as much when they'd packed her sizable bridal trunks.  
  
It was all so different, even the stone wasn't the same as the kind in Highever, here it was more brown and rough, not the cool grey stone that she was familiar with, and it gave her a pang of homesickness. For all that she'd wanted this marriage and cared for Teagan, she was a young woman very far away from her home, though she knew her parents would come and ease her transition some. Her hound, Horatio, would also be coming with her parents, and she knew his presence at her side would calm her considerably.  
  
For now, she had her new husband, who was doing his best to make her feel welcome. Teagan wrapped a reassuring arm around her as if he could sense her distress, and introduced her to his seneschal, a man whose name she promptly forgot upon hearing it. Jenna smiled at the man, and the maidservant that presented herself, bobbing a curtsy at her. When she stifled a yawn, Teagan led her through the house towards his chambers, forgoing a tour. She was much more tired than she realized, and her traveling clothes were uncomfortably warm in the house where fires had been going for hours.  
  
"Are you alright?" Teagan asked kindly, as she sat dazedly at the vanity in his, or rather, their bedroom.  
  
"Just tired is all. I can't believe all that's happened in one day."  
  
"Nor can I." Teagan said. She sat for a while longer, until he left and returned with food. It was a small tray of dinner food that had been kept warm for them, along with ale, bread and cheese. She regained some of herself through the sustenance, enough that she recognized her own discomfort in her clothes, the sweat rolling down her back under the layers she wore.  
  
"I am much too hot," Jenna proclaimed, "and in dire need of a bath."  
  
"Ah, well, I hate to tell you this," Teagan began, looking suddenly worried. "But we haven't the resources of you're castle in Highever. If you could wait until the morning, I could bring in the water for you. Or I could have a bowl of fresh water brought to you, if you'd like to wash your face tonight."  
  
He looked so eager to please that she would have giggled, had she the energy. Instead, she shook her head and smiled. In that moment, she thought of her mother, and how she'd instructed her to be gracious and elegant in all things, but especially when things don't go her way. "It's alright, really. I won't turn down a chance to wash the dust off my face tonight, but a bath in the morning is perfectly fine with me."  
  
Relief was evident on his face as he sent for a servant. Jenna took the time to poke about the room, and Teagan watching her rummaging around the room with an amused half-smile on his face. He'd begun to take off his armor while she was occupied, pulling off his gauntlets and boots, putting the pieces on a stand in the corner of the bedroom. It was the first time it had felt somewhat awkward between them since their meeting in Highever, which seemed so long ago to her mind. Despite the feeling, she let the silence endure, her curiosity out pacing her wit.  
  
Once the maid entered and left the water, giving another curtsy as she left, Jenna became that they were, finally, alone and free from interruption. She washed her face carefully, easing off the layers of dirt and makeup that stained it. When she was finished, Teagan stood behind her, but she didn't turn to face him. Quick hands unpinned her hair for her, deftly taking out the crystal-tipped pins that held it in place for their wedding. Her normally straight black hair had been swept up into a simple knot, tendrils falling around her face. The clear crystals adorned her dark hair, making it sparkle like stars in the night sky as she'd gone through her wedding celebrations. Teagan was carefully removing them, making a sparkling pile of pointed discards next to the basin of water.  
  
Wordlessly, he worked, freeing her hair from its constraints. She felt the absence of pressure on her head, like an exhalation of a breath held too long. It was such a simple thing, but thoughtful, and it relaxed her some.  
  
"Thank you." Jenna said to him. Their eyes met in the mirror and he smiled. It felt like their first truly private moment since they'd signed their wedding contract and kissed. The recollection of the fiery kiss they'd shared made her heart race, and she was sure Teagan could see it in her face.  
  
He gave no indication if he could, only offering her a hand as she got up from the vanity where she sat. Still wearing most of his armor, his hands were free and she took the proffered one, relishing the feeling of it in hers. She'd promised him earlier, 'Tonight'. When she'd said it, her mind had been full of feverish lust, but now she wanted it to be something sweeter, more reminiscent of that last time in Highever.  
  
"Shall we go to bed?" Teagan asked, his voice on the near side of husky. His thoughts weren't far from her own, but she supposed that was to be expected on their wedding night.  
  
She didn't bother with words, but gently pressed her lips to his to convey her answer. If their kiss before had been a desperate, rushed bit of stolen affection, this was a veritable gambol in comparison. Her opening kiss was light and teasing, and he could feel her smile against his own lips as they caught each other in kiss after kiss. There was hesitancy from Teagan, just for a moment in the beginning, while he let her set the pace between them. Jenna was glad of that, glad that she could deny urgency its persuasion and take her time. Before it had been too fleeting between them, everything had to be done quickly, each meeting, every kiss, secret, furtive, stolen - even the one earlier that day. Now there was time, a whole night with no interruptions, all theirs for the taking. She was determined not to rush, no matter how his touch quickened her pulse.  
  
It was almost an afterthought that made her lead him to the bed, she was concentrating on everything else - the brush of his whiskers against her face, the moans she smothered with her mouth as they kissed and the lightheadedness he caused in her. Teagan was, if nothing else, ever patient with her, and let himself be led slowly to his own bed. Beside it, they worked in concert to free him from his armor, then she from her traveling clothes. A rough hand brushed over her skin, calloused with work and battle, with the practice that kept him fit. Slender fingers eased away his chain, touching him as if it were the first time she'd disrobed him. Every touch between them was tender, Jenna far more emotional about the encounter than she'd anticipated.  
  
When they were down to naught more than undergarments, her chemise pooled at her feet, and he pulling off his linen undershirt, Jenna took Teagan's hand again. It was her intent to lay down on the bed and bring him with her, but he caught her around the waist.  
  
"I should do this properly." He murmured in her ear. "Since it is our wedding night."  
  
There was no time for her to inquire about just what 'properly' was before Teagan lifted her from the floor. She was swung into his arms and automatically reached out to anchor herself, snaking her arms around his neck. She was just beginning to enjoy it - his chest pressed against her bare skin, looking up at Teagan through half-lidded eyes, when he brought her to rest on the bed. Setting her down as if she were a porcelain doll, Teagan deposited her atop his bed, the bare skin of her back hitting the cool of the counterpane beneath her.  
  
She didn't let him go, however. Her arms stayed firmly around him, keeping him close to her, so near that he had few options but to kiss her again. He was a little more insistent now, tongue working its way into her mouth without the teasing lightness of before, but careful not to push too much.  
  
Their kisses heated up, but were still restrained, the two of them determined to make it last as long as possible. There was a certain pleasure in the mutual, frustrating sacrifice, the shared pent up lust between them prolonged in denial. It caused their every move to be both not enough and explosive at the same time. Her senses heightened, Jenna luxuriated in the exquisite tension each touch caused, his fingers brushing over her neck, tangling in the hair at her nape as his lips pressed against her own. Her own hands were far less gentle than his, urging, needy prods of her fingers, digging into the muscled flesh of Teagan's back and sides, trying to goad him into action.  
  
Teagan, as it turned out, was a great deal more patient than she. In her impatience, Jenna had slid his smallclothes down to his ankles, and wiggled out of her own. He'd taken care of her breastband, letting it slip through his fingers and land on the floor beside them, liberating her breasts only to cover them with his mouth. But he'd moved no further, not even a kiss to the swell of her stomach, or an errant hand between her legs. Teagan was teasing her, seeing how much she would take, if she would give in first. Jenna gasped as he flicked his tongue across the stiffened peak of her breast, his breath cool against the wetness that covered it. Desire ricocheted through her, and she wanted to scream, to tell Teagan that she'd waited long enough, and for him to please, please have mercy on his new wife, but she didn't. Instead, she let him take control from her, knowing full well how good he was at it.  
  
He was more than ready, she could feel all evidence of it poking her in the thigh, almost insistent with its touch. But he didn't rush, not even after realizing her silent acquiescence to him. Jenna met his body with her own, not initiating but not passive, meeting every kiss and caress with one of her own. When Teagan shifted atop her, she moved too, her leg grazing his erection. It was the first time he responded, a growl in the back of his throat, his hands rougher against her skin. It wasn't long after that when he slid a finger inside of her, already thoroughly wet with anticipation. Teagan hissed as she clenched around the digit, another frustration atop all the others, his finger, after long last just wasn't enough.  
  
When he met her eyes again, she knew the time for teasing was over, or at least, that he was ready to give in. Teagan's eyes were dark, seeming to take in the flickering light around them rather than reflect it. One last tease, the head of his cock sliding against her folds, touching but not penetrating until he got a strangled, frustrated cry from her and small fists flailed against his chest. She felt rather than heard his laughter, a murmur that turned into a groan as he sheathed himself within her. Jenna and Teagan both cried out, hers a half-sob of relief, his groan full of need and possession.  
  
She rolled against his hips before he was ready, catching him off guard, his breath hitching as she moved. Teagan didn't realize that she was getting him back, not until he looked down at her impish grin. He laughed again, but punctuated it wih a thrust, watching her eyes close and her perfect mouth shape itself into an 'o' as she moaned. Normally, he'd keep teasing, but he'd been too long without her. He kept going, his pace quickening as he did, listening to her throaty cries fill their chamber. She came around him in a few strokes, tight and quivering, and he only just held on after it. When he could no longer keep his climax at bay, he gave in, welcoming the ferocity that swept through him as he spilled into his wife. While their encounter hadn't been quick, neither was it the leisurely stroll they'd began. In the end, the urgency had won out. Teagan stroked her hair, pressing their sweaty foreheads together afterward, catching her mouth with light, breathless kisses, whispering how much he loved her. It was an intimacy she'd never known before, almost as touching as the vows they'd recited earlier.  
  
There was no need to recover their clothing, no place to rush off to or anyone to hide from, and that satisfied her as she drifted to sleep. They woke once during the night, sleepily reaching for each other. The second time, Teagan devoured her with the lethargy she'd desired before, licking her into mewling submission, leaving her shuddering and covered in sweat. She had to imagine the whole of the house could hear them, but then again, they couldn't be expecting any different on their wedding night.  
  
In the morning, they rose none too early, the full sun streaming in the window as Jenna rubbed sleep from her eyes. It was strange to wake only to see an unfamiliar place, one that was now to become her home. The enormity of it all would have been too much, were it not for Teagan's easy smile and soft kisses. At his insistence, she stayed in bed for longer than she normally would have, while Teagan made a production of bringing her heated water for the bath. It was sweet, and though she still felt out of place, it helped.


	13. Chapter 13

The best part, by far, were the gardens behind the house that she saw the next morning. She hadn't seen them properly the night before, since it was dark, but they'd only gone to the main house. The gardens weren't just filled with flowers, though there were an impressive array of late blooming asters and what looked to her unschooled eyes like a few types of goldenrod. Teagan grew small batches of crops, experimental and some specialty, in addition to the few fields he had. He explained that his stores supplemented those of his people for the most part, and to test how new things would grow in their soil. Winters could be hard and unpredictable, and he made sure to have more on hand that his household would need, in order to offset any shortages. It was sensible, but she'd not heard of any other bann's with a similar practice, and wondered what had spurred him to implement it.  
  
Aside from the main house, there were servants quarters, stables, barracks and a gatehouse, all fully staffed. People moved about working, greeting her and Teagan with a nod or tip of the hat, only a few stopping to stare at her. Everything was simply less, there were far less guards than she was used to, fewer maidservants, a handful of stable hands. Not less in grandeur, but simply smaller, scaled down. It fit the area, Rainesfere, and Teagan. It would be harder for her to fit into it, she who had found Castle Redcliffe too confining with its closed ceilings and small rooms.  
  
What there was more of was land. Aside from Teagan's fields, there were forests and dusty roads, paths she didn't know where they led. Around her in every direction was green turning colors, to the autumnal reds and golds that shone bright against the blue skies. The burning oranges that lit up like flame next to the stately green of the pine trees. There was brown, already dead and decaying, turning into the dirt. It was soft where Highever was shifting, the earth sable where her former home was fawn.  
  
"There's a lot to see." She commented, a hand shielding her eyes from the sun as she gazed out across the land.  
  
"Not so much as it seems, I assure you." Teagan said, holding onto her other hand. He was doing his best to be reassuring, but he couldn't possibly understand. She was Fereldan, had always been proud and lived here her whole life, but this was further than a trip to the Free Marches, and more foreign than Orlais. Teagan wasn't though, and she appreciated his efforts more than she could say.  
  
Still, she wondered if she would ever get used to it.  
  
#####  
  
Tongues were wagging long before Jenna and Teagan rose, and when the bann took his new wife to show her around the grounds, the servants spoke of nothing but them. Jenna cut an impressive figure, slender and beautiful in a dress of pale purple that fluttered about her as they walked. The weather was still warm but turning, and soon it would be too cold for such a delicate shift. That day, it was perfect, for she looked the sweet new bride, her hair trailing in the breeze, with Teagan's arm around her waist. To all that saw them, they looked happy together.  
  
Teagan's staff was loyal, but also concerned about their bann. This wedding had been a source of contention amongst them, some thinking Teagan had been coerced into it, with others deciding that he'd simply fallen quickly in love. Eyes were on them as they walked about, noting their smiles and comfort with each other. Those who'd maintained it was a love-match were now smug as they gossiped amongst each other.  
  
"Kept us up half the night, they did. It's good and consummated, that marriage." Began the head cook, knowingly. She'd known Teagan to be in love since he'd come back from Highever, though not many people agreed that his increased appetite for sweets was a good indication.  
  
"She's a beautiful girl, it's a shame they didn't get to go on a proper wedding trip."  
  
"I don't think the bann would have liked that, he hardly likes to go to Denerim, much less on some fancy Orlesian holiday."  
  
"Neither of them can stop smiling. At least they like each other. I don't think I could stand it if they was like the bann's house I came from. Bann Perrin and his lady wife don't even share meals, much less anything else."  
  
"There's going to be a babe, sooner rather than later, look at 'im reaching for her again. I didn't think Bann Teagan had it in him, but I suppose all men must."  
  
"Shh, leave him be. He just married the girl. Oh quiet now, they're coming back."  
  
They'd made their way back in for a late lunch, and had finished it before her parents were spotted heading in their direction. They'd given them the whole morning together without interruption, and for that, Jenna was glad. Once they arrived, her mabari, Horatio, was the first from the carriage, bounding to his mistress enthusiastically. Her parents, though they hung back, had the same air about them as her dog, though her father was still a little wary of Teagan. It subsided within a few hours of their arrival, and at dinner, Bryce was more like himself than Jenna had seen him in all the months of her engagement.  
  
Her parents were very happy for her, and their relief added to her own ebullience. When she recalled those days, Jenna saw them through a warm haze, spirited nights with her husband, and days spent with her family around, making her considerably less homesick. Eleanor was a great help to her daughter during her visit, because Teagan's house was sparse and the servants unused to having a lady in residence. Her mother guided her with a practiced hand and Jenna in turn earned the respect of her household. A few grumbled here and there 'mistress has a great deal of clothing,' or 'Lady Jenna is turning the place upside down.' but for the most part, her changes were few and designed to help her integrate herself into the household. With her parents around, things seemed to go more smoothly, and Jenna regretted how quickly the day of their departure came.  
  
She didn't cry - she didn't want their last image to be of her tears, but she was subdued waving off their carriage, hugging them both twice, and then twice again. Resting her head on Teagan's shoulder, she refused to give into tears stinging her eyes. That night, she ate little and sneaked most of her food to Horatio under the table. She missed the Couslands fiercely.  
  
#####  
  
Rainesfere was a long way from Highever, and even a decent ride from the center of the arling, Redcliffe Village. The orchards around them were lovely in a way that the north wasn't, the trees already finished with their autumnal change and nearly bare for winter. Jenna thought it beautiful in a stark way she'd never seen before, but missed the sea and her family, the freeholders she knew, the farmers that waved when they saw her go by. Here, she was Bann Teagan's wife, not Lady Cousland, and the adjustment was rough.  
  
The people were kind to her, though Jenna spent much of her first few weeks simply nodding in response to their questions, unable to decipher the thick western accents. There were quite a few dwarves living in Rainesfere, and more stopping through on the road from Orzammar. She liked them a great deal, though many of the merchants were disinclined to talk about more than their wares, and Teagan gently explained that most of them weren't allowed into the city of Orzammar, considered to be lost to their kind.  
  
It was lonely for Jenna, Teagan had his routine firmly established, and was not easily swayed from it, not even by his lovely new wife. Unlike in Redcliffe Village, there was no large concentration of people, save for the monthly market that took place. It was isolated and country, a place unto itself. Within time, she failed to establish a routine, much to her determent. As the winter set in, the cold winds coming up from the frozen southern tundra, Jenna was equal parts bored and displaced.  
  
Idle boredom alone isn't hard to combat, but the onset of winter is a busy time, and few had attention to spare for her. Teagan went about his business, consulting with her at the end of each day, as if she were just as busy as he. She was not. Though Eleanor had helped her with the household, the truth of the matter was that once they'd accommodated her, they did just fine on their own. Used to working with the seneschal, they didn't need Jenna to do much for them, though she was consulted from time to time. It was only when she wished to start making more changes, things that would change more of the house, that the servants began to second-guess her. Lady of the house though she was, most of them had spent years being loyal to just Bann Teagan. More often than not, he gave in just to let her have something to do besides wandering the grounds with her hound.  
  
The first time they fought, it caught her off guard. They'd disagreed before, but never raised voices, was filled with all this impotent, frizzling rage. She started once she realized the depth of her anger. Jenna was furious - truly mad at him for the first time as she stood face to face with her husband, her jaw set and neck thrust forward. She was staring him down, and he was frustrated, frowning at her, but never breaking the gaze. Honestly, there wasn't even any reason to be this upset, but she was, inexplicably out of proportion to their disagreement. It was unexpected, so much so that when she stopped to breathe, it made her laugh.  
  
"Why? What?" Teagan sputtered as Jenna laughed again, louder this time. At least he was properly confused by her laughter.  
  
"I'm sorry." She apologized immediately, both for her inappropriate amusement at the situation and her earlier anger. "It just occurred to me that we hadn't gotten into a fight before."  
  
At that, Teagan looked sheepish. "Perhaps I am being a bit bullheaded about the whole thing."  
  
They were arguing about his stubbornness and her wanting to change even more around the house. Moving the furniture had become a hobby, much to Teagan's chagrin. He had stubbed his toe twice yesterday, and that fresh ache no doubt added to his ire.  
  
Since she'd come to Rainesfere, struggled to keep herself busy with work. Though it wasn't ideal, it gave her some passing amusement, for other than the servants, there was no one around for her to talk to, and certainly no one of her rank to befriend. While her husband toured his lands, spoke with his people, looked over his fields and tackled the large amounts of paperwork brought by his seneschal, Jenna tried to lose herself in decorating or exploring with her dog. His home no longer resembled the place he'd brought her to after their wedding, but reflected the two of them. It was sometimes hard for him to reconcile all of the alterations that had come about, and he was behaving poorly.  
  
Jenna shook her head though, not letting him take all the blame. It wasn't a situation that required one party to capitulate, though she'd seen it as such before. She could almost hear her mother's voice urging her to cooperation, towards finding a middle ground. "I'm sure we both just need rest. We'll find a solution together tomorrow."  
  
"Is this where we get to make up?" He asked, drawing nearer to her. There was one area where they always got along, and neither was shy about it.  
  
"Always the best part of a fight." Jenna answered, letting herself be pulled into his arms, meeting his mouth as it descended upon hers.  
  
#####  
  
Winter was a long season for them, and both struggled to find their pacing together.  
  
He'd wanted her to find her place in Rainesfere automatically, or at least, with little effort. The problem, Teagan knew, was not with the place, but rather with Jenna's foreignness. It would have been better had she just been able to visit a few times, but the haste of their marriage prevented it. There was no use wishing about what could have been, but it didn't stop Teagan from regretting the lost opportunity. She struggled with the accent, though she tried to speak to people often, and smiled through any misunderstanding. Through every encounter, she was charming and gracious, to her credit with his people.  
  
Still, he had work to do, and little enough time as it was, though her presence there was more of help than not. With her around to do some of the tasks, he found that he could focus more on administration, much to the delight of his seneschal. Oft times, he lost himself in work, and found her distant, filling her time with changing his house to her liking. They clashed on quite a few things, and more than once, he embarrassingly found himself countering her orders to the staff. She hadn't quite learned how he did things, and it put them at odds.  
  
Whenever they were alone together, she seemed to forget her troubles in time. Jenna was mostly cheerful once he'd reassured her, and passionate enough for the two of them. Their nighttimes were, without question, the best part for the both of them, and had led to speculation amongst the servants that there would be a child soon. Perhaps in the future, but not at the moment.  
  
As her husband, he was immensely proud of her. She wasn't used to nor expecting the amount of work he did as part of his daily routine, and Jenna never once complained. Without his bidding, she found work to do, and left him alone to do his own. He didn't worry about entertaining her most of the time, though he did get the sense that she was drifting. Teagan wanted to give her space to find her own way.  
  
Sometimes, he wished she would complain, just so he could know exactly what she was thinking, but Jenna was as stubborn as her father. She said nothing to him at times, and he found it more troubling than if she'd thrown a fit. When the snows set in, she went for silent walks with her dog, their trail only traceable because of the footprints in the snow. As she withdrew more, Teagan found himself more worried than ever. He didn't know her well enough to discern her nature, but found the melancholy to be out of character, at least what he knew of it.  
  
If she didn't complain most days, the servants did, through Fredericks, his seneschal. Teagan grew weary of hearing their complaints, and knew he had only himself to blame. They were more than willing to help Jenna, so long as they checked with him first. Annoyance at himself and their constant interruptions ate at him, and he snapped at Jenna to learn to keep them in line.  
  
The only time he'd ever threatened to sack someone was that winter. Truly, the problem was of his own making. He'd countermanded Jenna before, enough that it made the staff wary of following her orders without checking with him. Eventually, she stopped giving them for the most part, but when she did, they were ever hesitant to follow her word. It frustrated him to no end, and he wondered why Jenna couldn't just command them - she'd seemed capable of command in Highever, but in Rainesfere it eluded her.  
  
Only when things spilled over did he and Jenna fight, and the less she said, the more he reverted to his old ways, sometimes forgetting she was new to it all.  
  
"You treat me like a guest!" She grumbled at him one night.  
  
Teagan didn't understand the criticism. She was a guest. Instead of trying to figure out what she meant, his mind was only on his bed. "I'll try harder." He promised, forgetting the empty words as soon as she accepted them.  
  
It was a long winter. When it came time to plan for spring, they agreed that Jenna should go ahead to Denerim before him, letting her spend time with her family in the city. It seemed to Teagan like she needed to be away from Rainesfere, and he felt ashamed for wanting just a little time apart from his new wife. Her early departure was the best compromise for both of them.


	14. Chapter 14

Though Jenna was liked by the people of Rainesfere, she still seemed an outsider to many. Some of the women regarded her with suspicion as the winter passed and her belly remained flat, without a sign of the bann's baby. It made things more difficult for her in some respects, and both newlyweds were glad when the thaws came, so Jenna could set out towards the capital.  
  
After a season in Rainesfere, Denerim was a blessed relief. Arriving at the Arl of Redcliffe's estate, she was led to the wing set aside for the brother to the arl. Her spirits were lifted simply by being in the capital, and Jenna was happy for the first time since the winter snows had set in. She took to it as she never had before, relishing the sunny blue skies of spring that nearly reminded her Highever. Coming from the south, slush from the late snows had softened the roads, making her tardy arrive to the city. Her family was already there as they'd promised, Fergus and Oriana, her mother coming within a few weeks.  
  
Teagan's apartments were more like rooms from a hunting lodge, but she'd been given leave to change the decor as she saw fit. That made her a little uneasy, since she'd been given similar instructions in Rainesfere, but saw no harm in renovating her own rooms. It was set up in the old style, with a separate lady's chambers and dressing room off the main bedroom. She set to work on these, putting up the Cousland heraldry on one wall, opposite the sigil of the Guerrin family already within. She changed the linens and paintings, finding a beautiful tapestry to adorn the wall while she was in the market with Fergus and Oriana. Her brother gifted it to her, the two of them falling easily into close relationship they'd always enjoyed.  
  
Newly married and tucked away, Jenna had become the toast of the town without knowing it. It thrilled her to no end, and she arrived home each day to a stack of waiting invitations. Dinners, dances, even an offer to take tea with the Queen, she was invited everywhere, and took up most of the invitations just to be out of the house. The rush of excitement after the slow season in Rainesfere rejuvenated her, and though she missed Teagan, she was far happier in Denerim.  
  
After her first week in the capital, she took Oriana with her to get new dresses made. Though she had the ones in her trousseau, she would need more for this season in Denerim. She charged the invoices to her husband, the Bann of Rainesfere, knowing that his seneschal in Denerim would see them long before Teagan did. It didn't trouble her at all, she saw it as a sensible investment. After all, she couldn't possibly be expected to take tea with Queen Anora in a gown she'd already worn. It simply wasn't done, at least, not in her mind.  
  
Jenna made her first appearance at court since she'd married, and she was surrounded within moments of greeting the King and Queen. Her greeting was unexpectedly warm from King Cailan, who seemed overjoyed for his uncle and treated her as a member of the family. Basking in all the attention, Jenna began to wonder why she'd even stayed so long in Rainesfere. She should have set out for the capital as soon as the first green shoot poked through the frigid tundra. It was at a dinner, however, that she first felt the barbs that came along with her unexpected popularity.  
  
"He hasn't even accompanied her into the city. What could possibly be so pressing in his bannorn that he would let his new wife arrive alone?" Jenna heard the talk, the comment rising above the babble, though it was meant to be quiet.  
  
"They can't be that happy. I wonder what Bryce paid as a dowry. Probably a fortune, as old as she is. I thought she'd be on the shelf for another season."  
  
"Well, she obviously isn't with child, and I was sure she was after that short engagement."  
  
"So were a lot of people." The second voice concurred. Jenna tried to hear more, but the lull in the conversations around her passed, and the noise crept up again.  
  
Part of her was enraged - they were a love match, as unlikely as it seemed, but another side of her, used to the cynicism of the nobility, knew that those voices had simply said what so many others were thinking. Suddenly, she was mad at Teagan for leaving her alone, for making her come on her own. Jenna's hands curled into fists as she thought about it, fury rising within her. They were newly married, and he should have accompanied her, not stayed on his own schedule. It wouldn't have been too much for him to come to Denerim a little early. To her mind, there were a lot of things Teagan should have done that he didn't do.  
  
With time on her own, and nights to herself, her emotions had time to stew. Every problem since she'd gone to Rainesfere played through her mind, a litany of her failure to integrate herself into the household and community. She remained an outsider, though she'd tried for a whole season to become the mistress of the house. Without a maid of her own, Jenna had taken care of herself, something she was sure no other noble woman did. The servants didn't accommodate her requests without asking Teagan, and she had been forced to learn to do her own mending, since they 'didn't have time' for it, already too busy with work for the bann.  
  
In the beginning, she'd tried to run the household as her mother had instructed her, but Teagan hadn't offered her any help. They'd simply nodded, and then went to ask Teagan about her orders, as if she should have asked him first. When she wanted to make the house more comfortable, and add decoration, Teagan himself proved the obstacle, unwilling to change despite his declarations to the contrary. By the end of the winter, she'd simply packed many items of her trousseau back into the crates her mother had sent ahead for her, and spent time with her dog. At least he didn't question her.  
  
In Denerim, things were much improved, she felt like a flower that had found sunlight at long last. Reconnecting with old acquaintances and spending time with her family, Jenna was happy, for the most part. Bann Loren's son, Dairren was there, and she greeted him as her old friend. They weren't strictly speaking, actually friends, but she had entertained him once when she first started the whole business of finding a suitor. They had been together, but it hadn't been enough to keep either of them interested at the time.  
  
She was seated next to him and kept up a decent chatter, speaking mostly about her return to Denerim and all that she'd done. Jenna found that whenever she fell short of topics, talking about her nephew Oren always gave her something new to say. He was far bigger than when she'd last seen him, as cute as ever with her brother's dark hair. Dairren smiled and laughed at all the correct parts, but Jenna knew that she was boring him. At least he put up a good front about it, and she enjoyed that he was indulging her. All through dinner he was polite and courteous, but afterward, he echoed the questions she'd heard the other day.  
  
"So tell me, My Lady Guerrin, where is your new husband?" Dairren asked, standing next to her with a snifter of brandy. Jenna was sipping a cordial, potent and sweet, from a crystal glass.  
  
Frowning, she answered. "Bann Teagan had business in the south until the thaws, but I came ahead to see my brother and his family. I'd not seen them since I'd left Highever."  
  
"Ah, yes. I hear the snows were quite abundant down there. I forget that you are so far from where you once were." He said, trying to make the remark sound offhand, as if he hadn't meant it to be have two meanings. "Does it bother you to be so far from Highever?"  
  
Were it anyone else, she might have plastered on another false smile and made a scathing remark. Had she not overheard that conversation not days before, she wouldn't have been smarting, the comments etched upon her, aching with every reminder. She was so lonely, and after a winter in Rainesfere, battling with Teagan, working until her fingers bled, trying to adapt, there was nothing left in her to pretend.  
  
"It does." Jenna answered simply, her eyes never wavering from Dairren's. "It is not at all how I expected."  
  
Her honesty shocked even herself, but Dairren was too well-bred to let it show on his face. "I imagine it is difficult. Forgive my earlier remark, it was unseemly." His mouth quirked up at a corner as he spoke again. "Perhaps I am still a little upset that you were wed before I had a chance to renew my suit."  
  
"You were going to come back?" Jenna asked, shocked that he would have tried again. They hadn't seemed especially compatible, but she remembered him being most vigorous in bed. That hadn't been unwelcome.  
  
"I was going to write and ask if you and your mother would visit my father's bannorn, to stay at the estate with us. But before I could, your engagement was announced."  
  
"Yes, it was very quick. I wanted it that way. I think I was swept off my feet by Teagan's suit."  
  
Dairren caught the unsaid. "Ah, but now you are second-guessing yourself? It's not uncommon, from what I hear."  
  
Jenna simply shook her head, unwilling to answer. Whatever she felt, she would not malign Teagan or her marriage. Dairren pressed her further, leaning in. "There's nothing wrong with a shared confidence amongst friends. I do wish to be your friend, as I once was."  
  
She said nothing to this, wondering how he'd imagined himself to be her friend after one night together. They'd been friendly, certainly, the few times they'd met. As she was busy thinking of how best to respond, he whispered to her. "Do you still taste like milk and honey?" He asked in a low growl, his breath hot against her ear.  
  
Feral lust shot through her, and Jenna closed her eyes. It had been so long since she'd had sex, and longer still since it had been good between her and Teagan. She tried to think back to some of the best times, the things she'd normally only recall in private, not in a room full of people. But at that moment, she was beyond caring, her heart thumping in her chest, Dairren's words burning in her ear. In her mind, she let her lust loose, until she could feel her body at attention as it rubbed against the silk of her dress.  
  
Her breath came in hot, short gasps as she thought, thinking about whom she wanted, the perfect partner of her imagination. Flitting through a veritable who's who of the nobility, she couldn't settle on any one person for a while. When she did, the only face that her desire wore belonged to Teagan. It made her smile slightly as she answered Dairren. "You'd have to ask Bann Teagan."  
  
He moved a half step away after her rebuke. When she looked over at him, he was smiling at her, but his expression was somewhat melancholy.  
  
"You love him, don't you?"  
  
"Yes. Very much."  
  
"Then I'm sorry again, my lady." He looked pained as he said it, but he didn't drop his gaze. He was sincere, even then, and she realized that she liked Dairren. Maybe they could be friends, but she certainly wouldn't be his lover. Teagan would arrive soon enough, and she was determined to find her way back to her husband on her own terms.  
  
Jenna held up her hand, a gesture of forgiveness between them. "Don't be. I needed the reminder."  
  
#####  
  
Denerim looked the same to Teagan as it had the last time he'd visited, the only difference was that he'd been several weeks away from Jenna and was missing his wife. Other than seeing her, he had little reason to go to the city, though he supposed he should stay abreast of politics. There would be murmurs about him and Jenna, Highever and Redcliffe, people talking of an alliance. If they only knew how their engagement had come about - he nearly throttled by an angry father, all talk would stop.  
  
It surprised him how much he'd come to miss Jenna in Rainesfere. Their recent troubles had diminished in his mind, and he'd come to hate sleeping alone. His bed was infinitely too big without her warm, sweet body in it. He'd even missed her dog, ever at her side, protecting his mistress.  
  
His seneschal gave him his correspondence, including a few tedious looking dinner invitations, and several bills that Jenna had run up already. He was informed that the mistress was redecorating her own chambers, and some of her belongings were housed in his room for the time being. Teagan didn't mind, thinking that she meant to clean out the mess he'd stored in the other bedroom. Perhaps she'd get around to doing his while they were in residence. She wasn't in when he got there, but his closet was bursting with new dresses, silk stockings and hats that she hadn't had before she'd left. Some of this would have to stay in the city, there was simply no room nor need for it in Rainesfere.  
  
He had no idea where to find his wife, so he went about his business, and presenting himself at court, where he ran into Fergus Cousland. His brother in law was a bit chilly to him, and Teagan supposed that he'd finally heard the truth about what prompted the quick engagement between him and Jenna. It was bound to happen, so Teagan shrugged it off, retiring to the Gnawed Noble Tavern for a drink and to hear anything relevant that had happened in his absence from the city.  
  
It wasn't long after he got his ale that he was spotted by another bann. It seemed that everyone was in Denerim for the season.  
  
"Bann Teagan." It was Ceorlic addressing him, a man he had never liked. His father had been a traitor during the occupation, conspiring in the killing of Moira the Rebel Queen. The son was little better once cowed into submission. He remained a simpering idiot who attached himself like a barnacle to first Maric and Loghain, now Cailan, in some attempt to atone.  
  
"Bann Ceorlic. I trust you're well."  
  
"Yes, very. Congratulations on your wedding."  
  
"Thank you." Teagan said, turning his attention back to his ale. He had no wish to draw out the conversation longer than necessary.  
  
"I understand the Cousland girl, _your bride_ arrived before you." The stress he put on bride made it seem like a epithet, as if he meant to demean Jenna by calling her his bride. He wondered idly, whether it was him or the Couslands that Ceorlic had a problem with. Teagan was sure he wouldn't find out from this conversation. It was devoid of anything approaching meaning.  
  
"Yes, I had some business to take care of in the south, but Je - Lady Jenna wanted to see her family. I sent her along first, not wanting to cut her visit short."  
  
Ceorlic fidgeted, trying to make himself seem nervous, but his eyes glowed maliciously as he responded. The whole production was very tiresome to Teagan, who didn't actually care overmuch about anything Ceorlic could say. "Very noble, very noble indeed. I, for one, would have thought twice about sending my new wife to Denerim unchaperoned, but I see you aren't one for convention."  
  
"Not as of late." Teagan said dryly.  
  
"It's good then, that you are so trusting. Lady Jenna has been all about town, with her constant companion, Bann Loren's eldest son."  
  
Teagan kept his face carefully bland. "Yes, they are old friends." He said cautiously, not feeding into Ceorlic.  
  
"Yes, that would explain their closeness. They've been seen at parties and dinners together, talking and laughing well into the night."  
  
He refused to be rattled by this man, who had obviously sought him out to do just that. Teagan neither knew nor cared what he'd done to earn such treatment, but he wasn't going to give in to it. "That's what friends do, Ceorlic. Had you any, you might well know that."  
  
He delivered the slight in his normal tones, but Ceorlic huffed indignantly at the words. Backing away, he made his excuses, leaving Teagan to his tankard. He drank slowly, turning this new information over in his mind.  
  
Jenna and Bann Loren's son? Standing too close at parties, he accompanying her when she wasn't out with her family? This wasn't something he'd ever expected to hear. He loved his wife, was crazy about her, and never had a reason not to trust her during their whole acquaintance. Her unfaithfulness was the last thing on his mind. Eamon's warnings from before their wedding flooded into him, letting doubt in. As determined as he had been not to react to the gossip, it was sinking his spirits to the bottom of their depths. Disheartened, Teagan went back to his apartments to wait for Jenna.


	15. Chapter 15

_"I cannot wait for Teagan to arrive in Denerim. It's been a fantastic visit for me so far, and just what I needed after a dreary winter in Rainesfere. I am so excited to see him again, I confess I rest easier in his arms than I do otherwise. Who would have thought that after such resistance, and all the ups and downs, I would like being a married woman?"_   - From the journal of Jenna Cousland  
  
Teagan could hear her before he even laid eyes on her, her voice lifted in song, happier than he could remember her being for many weeks. She was singing a sweet, lilting tune, as she walked towards him. He could hear her dog's claws clicking against the stone floor as he walked next to her, ever so often muffled when he came into contact with the carpets. Someone must have told her he was in residence, because her steps were quick and certain, heading towards their private rooms.  
  
"Teagan!" Jenna cried out, and flung herself at him. There was no artifice in her greeting, only love and happiness at his presence.  
  
He opened his arms to receive her, burying his face in her hair, breathing in deeply to catch her scent. It was always light, but complex, as if she wanted to leave a mystery lingering in her wake. Her hug was fierce, and when she caught his lips in a kiss, it was familiar and effortless, as if they didn't have the whole winter and Denerim between them. She was so lovely, her greeting so sincere. He wanted to disregard the rumor worming its way into his mind, ruining their reunion, dimming the brightness of the smile aimed at him. Her dress was new, lilac with ruffles and flounces, though its ornateness only served to enhance her obvious charms, the swell of her breasts and her slender waist.  
  
"Are you alright?"  It was all he asked instead of the many questions that were clouding his head. Teagan held at her arm's length, searching her face as he spoke. "I haven't been gone too long, have I?"  
  
Jenna reached up and stroked his face, rubbing her thumb across his jaw. Teagan kept his eyes on her, but leaned into the touch. No matter how much time passed, her hands were still calloused from her weapons training, just as he remembered them from that first time in Highever. Thinking of their past gave him some comfort, and he composed himself as he listened to her soothing words. "I'll admit I missed you terribly, my love. But I needed to leave the bannorn when I did. I think that the time apart has done us good."  
  
He had no answer for that, but simply hugged her to him. When they made love that night, she had to suppress her surprise that he hadn't taken her upon their reunion, but he'd needed time to get his head on straight. She attributed his ferocity to their separation, but he wanted to mark her as his own. By nature he wasn't a possessive man, but he was paranoid and confused, the words of Bann Ceorlic echoing in his mind. He'd also missed her a great deal, her absence from Rainesfere had been more keen than he could have anticipated. However, the wretched words refused to be displaced, no matter how he worked at it, and the poisoned Teagan against his wife.  
  
It took a few days for the tension to develop between them again, but Teagan realized his part in hastening it. He'd been watching her every step, questioning her about going out. At first Jenna had been confused and conciliatory, trying to understand the change in him. When none of her efforts met with success, she grew worried and tense. It exploded after Dairren had come to call on her, and Teagan was unable to tamp down his disdain. Her guest left in short order, and Jenna found herself faced with an angry and insecure husband.  
  
"Do you want to sleep with Bann Loren's son?"  
  
Jenna turned on him, her face flushed scarlet with anger. "I cannot believe you would even ask me something like that. That doesn't get an answer."  
  
"So it's true." Teagan replied grimly, as if her refusal had confirmed all of his worst thoughts.  
  
"What's true is that you let your new wife come alone to the city, where the vultures gossiped about us and every other glance become more pitying the longer you were away. Dairren is simply a friend, because I needed one, and he took me out since you couldn't be bothered."  
  
"You knew I had business in Rainesfere until the end of Spring. I couldn't come earlier. You said it would be alright, that you would spend time with Oriana and Fergus." He was aware that his voice had grown accusatory, but he couldn't keep it in any longer.   
  
"Well, I have business in Denerim until the end of summer. I can't go back with you. I won't go back to that awful place until I have to." Jenna announced, crossing her arms in front of her chest.  
  
They glared daggers at each other, neither one of them moving. The end of summer! She was going to stay in the city spending money until the last possible moment, then come home and sulk all winter. The prospect of spending months without her, somehow it angered him more than anything else she'd said.  
  
"If that is what you wish, then so be it." Teagan hissed at her. She stood her ground, arms still locked in front of her chest, her face set in a defiant stare.  
  
If she was going to thrown down ultimatums, he would abide by them. Weariness claimed him, and for the first time, he and his wife slept in their separate bed chambers. When he got up in the morning, the door adjoining their rooms was locked from her side, and she'd already departed for the day. So this was how it was going to be.  
  
#####  
  
During all of their months together, she'd never truly seen Teagan's anger. He wasn't the kind to get upset quickly, but was the one others looked to when they needed a cool head. It made their estrangement all the more difficult to bear, because she was the focus of his rare ire, when she'd already been so hurt by his distance in Rainesfere. Her husband refused to take her out, or to let Dairren into the estate. She left only with her family, or Isolde.   
  
They argued once more, the two of them barely civil in private once Teagan had made his accusations.  
  
"Would you like to have an affair, Teagan? That way we can settle this once and for all. Our marriage can be like Eamon and Isolde's, if that pleases you."  
  
She had recently found out that Eamon didn't take lovers, but sometimes dallied, with Isolde purposefully turning a blind eye. He had tastes that she didn't, and sometimes let him sate his carnality with others.  
  
Teagan, however seemed not to know about it. "What?" He shook his head at her, a disgusted look on his face. "Eamon doesn't have affairs!"  
  
"What could I possibly know about anything? You're right, as always. And I was a maid before your visit to Highever, you plucked my flower."  
  
He gave a hard, biting laugh. "Only a rose has thorns such as yours and continues to come back no matter how it was cut down."  
  
Jenna raised her nose, looking down at him as she hovered in the doorway. "I am a Cousland, not some damn flower you had to save. I could have married any number of Ferelden nobles, an Antivan Prince, or a Rivaini noble, but I chose you. You would do well to remember that." She exited, leaving him stung.  
  
He hadn't ever considered that she didn't need to marry him, but that she'd wanted to. They'd both wanted this, to be together, more than anything at the time. Where had all of that enthusiasm gone? There was nothing he could think to say to her, even if she had stayed long enough for him to respond.   
  
The day after their most recent argument, Jenna's spirits plummeted.  Waking up alone day after day, not knowing why her husband didn't seem to trust or even like her very much had that effect. To keep herself from fighting with Teagan, she called around to her family, in need of a pleasant distraction from the tension that was making even Eamon and Isolde uneasy.

Oriana was napping but Fergus was in. Her brother took her around to the Gnawed Noble, where they sat drinking and discussing the business of Highever. Her father was late in coming to Denerim as well, and she regretted her childish anger she had before Teagan arrived. Her anger afterward, well, he'd earned that ire all on his own.   
  
While her brother went off to catch up with his friend, she stayed at the table. Oswyn was still there with her, as was another young man, who soon departed, claiming he had to run an errand for his mother. She sat chatting with Oswyn politely as she waited for Fergus, even though the both of them had little in common. Tiring of the tedious small talk, she asked Oswyn to see her back to the arl's estate. The two of them said goodbye to Fergus, who waved them away with good cheer, in the middle of telling a story about his growing son.  
  
"Tell me, my lady, is the Arl of Redcliffe's estate as grand inside as it is outside? My mother often talks about the fountain Eamon installed." Oswyn said, keeping up their mindless chatter as he escorted her.  
  
"Oh, it is very lovely, traditionally Ferelden. I think the Arlessa Isolde wanted to reclaim the Guerrin heritage."  
  
"My mother is a friend of the arlessa, though she's not been to Redcliffe in some time. When she next visits Denerim with my father, I should tell her to call on the two of you."  
  
"You should." Jenna agreed absently. She was aware he was merely speaking to fill the silence, but her thoughts were elsewhere, with Teagan. They were still in the midst of their cold spell, and she hadn't seen him that day before she'd departed.  He'd breakfasted earlier than she and left without saying goodbye. He could be so vexing when he wanted, and she was determined to stand her ground the two locked in a stubborn stalemate.  
  
"She was a friend of Bann Teagan's too, my mother. She said he was damn lucky to do so well as to marry you. I have to agree." Oswyn continued.  
  
"Both you and your mother are too kind. I assure you, we are well-matched."  
  
"But you're upset with him?"  
  
Jenna laughed, stopping in her tracks. "Was it that obvious?" She asked, feeling foolish that she'd betrayed her emotions.  
  
Oswyn smiled kindly at her. "You grow more tense as we get closer to the estate.  And you have the same look my dear sister wears, when that Antivan fop she married has made her angry. "  
  
"If you were my husband, would you let me stay in the city until summersend all alone, just to prove a point?"  
  
"If I were your husband, I wouldn't be so careless as to malign Bann Teagan in the open." He countered, his smile twisting into a smirk. "But should I have ever been so lucky, I wouldn't presume to tell you what to do. I think it would be best that way to keep you from staying mad at me."  
  
This statement made Jenna laugh again, and they resumed their walk. "You are far more wise than you seem, Oswyn."  
  
"Just don't tell Bann Teagan." He said conspiratorially, giving her a wink.   
  
She managed a small smile, but otherwise didn't answer. That was the problem, wasn't it? She wasn't even talking to her husband, who didn't seem to listen to her overmuch anyway. It pulled on her spirits, lowering them down even further. They couldn't go on like this, well, she couldn't at the very least. Jenna made up her mind, wanting nothing more than to just get past this overblown, large hurdle in their relationship. She wanted Teagan back, the man who'd stolen into her room in Highever and wouldn't leave without proposing, because he couldn't see himself without her. She needed to be herself again, to love passionately and deeply, to feel like she had a place at the side of her husband.  
  
She was going to apologize as soon as she saw Teagan, and they were going to start again. It was well past time.


	16. Chapter 16

Teagan wasn't in when Jenna arrived back at their apartments. He was off visiting his nephew, the king which sounded important, but truly wasn't. They'd been talking of hunting. He hadn't spoken to Jenna that day, though on the way to the palace Eamon took the time to tell Teagan that he thought they were both being ridiculous. The longer their fight wore on, the more he thought Eamon was correct.   
  
That morning, Teagan had heard Isolde and Jenna talking together, in Orlesian no less. It was a private conversation, at the time, he thought himself entitled to hear it, and defiantly eavesdropped. His own Orlesian was rusty, but he caught words like _solitaire_ and _désolé_ , lonely and desolate, words that made him feel like a complete arse for his treatment of her.  
  
He'd planned on apologizing, maybe offering to stay part of the summer with her in Denerim, but when he went to his quarters, he noticed a change. The door that joined his room to Jenna's was open wide, revealing her sitting chamber.  
  
It was the first time he'd seen her rooms. Shamefully, he admitted to himself that he hadn't paid any particular attention to them before their rift, preferring his own larger quarters and having her sleep there with him. But her rooms were unexpectedly comfortable, full of light and rich colors.  
  
Jenna herself was seated on a fainting couch, a book open on her lap. She looked lovely, wearing a corseted dress with a daring neckline, the pale pink fabric complimenting the golden brown of her skin. Her mabari sat at the foot of the couch, sleeping comfortably.  
  
"Your rooms are quite lovely." He said, chiding himself inwardly for the stupidity of his opening statement.   
  
"Thank you." Jenna answered primly, tucking a ribbon into the book she read and closing it.   
  
"You're quite welcome." Teagan said, maintaining their formality. "Are you still angry with me?"  
  
"No." Jenna sighed. "I am sorry for all the problems I caused, however inadvertent they were. I..." She swallowed, and looked away from him. "I want to go home, to Rainesfere, with you."  
  
"I don't want to force you."  
  
"You haven't. I'd prefer to be with you rather than do without you."  
  
Teagan felt foolish, softened by her unexpected capitulation. The thought that she would want to be with him rather than without him made him happy. He needed to be wanted by her, needed to know she still felt the same as she had in Highever. They'd gotten so off track after their wedding. They fell silent, and Teagan watched her dog move away from them, seating himself closer to the fire as if he wanted to give them privacy. He followed the hound with his eyes, inspecting the room.  
  
The more time he spent in her rooms, the more he realized he didn't actually know his wife. He looked around to see her personality in the richly embroidered fabrics, stylishly put together. Her room was neither dull nor overly oppressive. Though the colors in her room were rich, they had a gaiety to them, and cleverly played against the light that came into the room.   
  
She'd placed mirrors opposite some of the windows, bouncing the incoming light around the whole of the room, making it feel bigger and brighter than it was. There were several different pieces of furniture in the room, and none of the same make, but nothing felt mismatched. There were books in a small shelf, but they didn't dominate the room. A weapons rack in a corner held her daggers, and next to it was her leather armor on a mannequin. Seeing it there reminded him that she'd not had a chance to practice all winter - he'd simply forgotten that she was a warrior of sorts, and hadn't bothered asking her to spar.   
  
A small statue of Andraste and a lute lay in a corner of the room. Music wasn't a hobby he'd realized she had, another detail that shamed him. For all the time he'd spent with her all winter, he'd done little more than rut with her. Every time she wanted to change something, he'd protested, even undermined her authority. No wonder she'd withdrew. He'd been an awful husband.  
  
And yet, here she was, apologizing. Making the first step that he was too stubborn to take. Telling him she wanted to be with him, that she cared for him, when he barely even said the same to her. Maker, how long had it been since he'd told her that he loved her? Truly, he did, but he couldn't recall the last time he'd said so.  
  
"I love you." He said, remedying the situation immediately. "I couldn't stand the thought of going back without you." He confessed, leaning towards her. Reaching out his hand, he ran his thumb over the contours of her jaw, smiling as she closed her eyes at his touch.  
  
"I love you too, Teagan." She whispered.  
  
"Things haven't been good between us for a while, have they?" Teagan asked, his voice much softer.  
  
"No, they haven't. I'm not sure why it was so hard though. We needed to get used to each other, and I was missing home."  
  
"And I wasn't there." Teagan said, chiding himself. "You said once that I treated you like a guest. At the time I didn't understand, but I think I am beginning to now."  
  
"I felt like I couldn't do anything, and you were so busy. The servants wouldn't listen to me, and nothing was working out. When I came to Denerim..." She trailed off, looking sad. "It was so nice to be away from Rainesfere, to be with my family. It was like remembering who I was. And everyone wanted to talk to me, to see me. Dairren did proposition me, but he backed off right away."  
  
"What did he say?" Teagan was curious in the way he might stare at an accident.  
  
"He asked..." She colored, but held his gaze as she finished, "If I still tasted like milk and honey."  
  
Teagan felt anger flush through him, but bit it back enough to speak. "What did you say?"  
  
"That he'd have to ask you if he wanted to know."  
  
Teagan laughed, partially from relief but also amused by her cheeky answer. If Dairren had been recklessly brazen, she'd been equally so in her response. "I'm sorry." He managed, once he stopped laughing. "I'm so sorry we fell apart, my love."  
  
For the first time in days, he kissed her. It was apologetic and sweet, tinged with regret for all that had transpired. How had he ever kept himself from her? Each kiss was grew more desperate, deeper as he demanded more. Time and too much stubborn stupidity had wedged them apart, and Teagan wanted to dispel all of it. She was just as eager he to put the past behind them, her mouth pressing hard against his. When he looked into her eyes, they were so dark they appeared stormy, but he knew she was far from upset with him.  
  
His fingers tangled in the corset of her dress, but rather than try to undo them, Teagan pulled on the front panel of the dress until her breasts popped free, chuckling softly when she gasped. "I do know my way around a dress or two." Teagan breathed in her ear.  
  
"How very lucky that you're so skilled." She replied, raking a hand through his hair as he kissed her neck, licking the hollow of her collarbone, and then going lower, kissing the soft skin of her chest.  
  
Jenna leaned back until she was beneath him, laying down on the fainting couch. "I missed you so much Teagan." She murmured as he descended upon her once again, kissing her lips and working his way down.   
  
All he heard was another gasp when he covered the hardened tip of her breast with his mouth. Her skirts had worked their way up her legs, not quite to her waist, and Teagan decided to help them along. Moving his hand up her leg in a sweeping motion, he gathered the cloth, pushing it away from places he wanted exposed.   
  
Silken hose encased her long legs, but he had no moments to spare on them as lifted her skirts. Jenna was just as busy as he, untying her smallclothes, making more of her lovely skin accessible to his kisses. They were pretty little things, fastened on each hip with a bow, and Jenna's fingers pulled them one at a time, releasing her from the cloth confines before he even had a chance to push them aside. In his fevered mind, he made a note to purchase more of the marvelous things for her before they left Denerim.  
  
The smell of her arousal, wet and musky, hit him like potent drink, and Teagan groaned as he pulled the lacy scrap of fabric out from under her. He was still painfully dressed, the touch of the cloth against his heated skin almost chafing. Reluctantly, he withdrew his mouth from her chest, his wife whimpering at the loss. When no further kisses came, she crooned his name, beckoning him back to her with a soft plea made ragged with desire. It took all of his focus to stand up. Panting as his worthless fingers slipped over the buttons of his doublet, Teagan could feel his erection straining his trousers, aching to be free.  
  
Shedding his clothes unceremoniously, Teagan felt the cool of the air around them dimming the heat of his body somewhat, but not enough to be of relief. He sank down onto the couch, his mouth slanting over hers. There was nothing he wanted but to touch every inch of her, to feel her again, and his hands were busy as she claimed him with hungry kiss after kiss, kneading a breast before moving onto skim over her thighs.   
  
He could feel her hips inching upward, begging for his hand to dip between her legs, but he didn't. Teagan was far too greedy in this matter, Dairren's impertinent question to his wife driving his desire. When he pulled his mouth from Jenna's it was to taste her, to suckle her hard nub and feel her writhing beneath him. She was his, all his, and they'd both been so foolish. He let his tongue make his apologies, laving over her sweet, sensitive folds as she moaned, her end coming soon. Delicious wetness covered his face as she unfurled, losing control like waves crashing against the a rocky shore. Every moment of her pleasure was bliss for him, as she whimpered his name as it were all she could hold onto to keep her grounded.  
  
Before she was completely finished, body still quaking, he hilted himself within her. Teagan groaned as he did, surrounded by warmth, wet tightness. He'd missed her, more than he could say. Somehow these last days felt even longer than the weeks before he'd come to Denerim, and this was more of a homecoming than they had upon his arrival. Hips snapping in a steady, building rhythm, Teagan was pushing himself deeper and deeper within her, each time pulling out just until the head of his cock was almost visible and burying it deep within her again.  
  
It took a shamefully short amount of time for Teagan to finish. Everything conspired against him, the gorgeous blush that colored Jenna's chest, down to her nipples, the clench and release of her around him, her hands gripping him, pulling him closer as she moaned his name - all intertwined with his own frantic need. Blood pounded in his ears the closer he got, and all he could do was feel, his other senses all jumbled. He felt Jenna, the two of them as one, and shared in the pleasure that flicked across her face, felt the urgency that united both of them until he finally broke.   
  
Coming with a violent jerk of his hips and a loud, protracted groan, Teagan shuddered as his climax rebounded through him. The short strokes that worked him through his release took his last remnants of energy. He wanted nothing more than to collapse next to Jenna, catching his breath. If only they had the room on the couch. Giving himself only a few moments, he stood up and gathered his clothes, then held out a hand to Jenna.  
  
"Where are we going like this?" Jenna asked, voice tinged with laughter.  
  
Teagan titled his head at her, smiling. "To my bed. Didn't you once say that making up was the best part of a disagreement? I daresay we've got a lot of making up to do after this one. Probably a whole afternoon's worth of making up."  
  
The light in her eyes as she took his hand answered better than any words could have.


	17. Chapter 17

Summer in Ferelden had a way of being too brief, but all the more brutal for it. The city was no less diminished as the temperatures rose and the humidity along with it. People began abandoning the streets during the midday, preferring to take shelter someplace with a nominal breeze or shade, both if they were lucky. The Guerrins stayed in Denerim until just after the Summerday festival. Whatever rumors that dogged the couple were mostly dispelled in that time, Lady Jenna and Bann Teagan were well known to be mad about each other.  
  
During the day, they spent their time at the Chantry, watching the procession of eager young men and women, just coming of age. It hadn't been so long ago that Jenna had been amongst them, but she'd remained in Highever for her celebrations. Denerim was so large she feared she'd be lost in a sea of white tunics during the procession. The larger crowd proved to be beautiful to watch, solemn as they journeyed, their chanted oaths of adulthood a chorus of many voices blended to one. It brought tears to her eyes, and as she dabbed at them with a kerchief, Teagan wrapped an arm around her.  
  
Normally, Jenna would have been waiting eagerly for the night of the festivities when the sky was painted with fireworks and the royal band played, but aside from a brief appearance, she opted for a quiet night with Teagan. They were getting along much better, and they sat with Isolde and Connor, who had napped in order to be awake for the festivities. He was still too young to understand much, but he grew excited at the sight of the fireworks, and Isolde fed him sugared bread as a treat.  
  
They were peaceful, all of them together, Eamon alone remaining at the palace to represent their family. She was glad to be done with it, and ready to go back to Rainesfere. It was strange to miss the place, but somehow, between the arguments and making up with Teagan, she'd come to think of it as home. It would never replace Highever in her heart, but she was looking forward to seeing the dusty red landscape again. The longer they spent in the city, the more tense Teagan grew, tiring of the pomp and politics. Seeing it from the perspective of an adult for the first time, it wore on her too, and more often Jenna found herself thinking longingly of the solitude that awaited them at home.  
  
Besides wanting to be done with Denerim, she had something to look forward to once they got back to Rainesfere - her first visitor. Bryce Cousland was to visit them at the end of the summer months, after he was finished with his business in Highever. He hadn't yet made it to Denerim, and she suspected he would forgo coming to the city to visit her. It meant a lot that her father would make the long trip to Rainesfere just to spend time with her.  
  
After the fireworks ended, a nanny ushered a sleepy Connor inside, while Teagan, Isolde and Jenna lingered in the garden, sipping the last of their wine. Teagan was holding her hand, and every so often, Isolde would look their way and smile. Jenna liked her sister in law, she really did, Isolde was a sweet woman who bore the scorn that came with her Orlesian heritage with more grace than Jenna would have. She was quite like Oriana in some ways, and felt like a cross between aunt and sister.  
  
"Are you ready to go in?" Teagan asked her.  
  
Jenna looked up at the now still sky, remnants of smoke dissipating around the stars. Her ears still rang slightly from the great booms of gunpowder needed to make the spectacle light up the sky. Isolde brushed off her dress.  
  
"I think so. Goodnight, Isolde." Jenna said, nodding at the arlessa.  
  
"Goodnight, Jenna, Teagan. I will wait out here for Eamon. I think he will be home soon. If not, it is nice to enjoy the night."  
  
They departed, leaving her alone outside. On the way in, Teagan kissed her, just under the stone archway that led into the house.  
  
"What was that for?" Jenna asked.  
  
"Always good luck to kiss a beautiful woman on Summersday." He said.  
  
Jenna laughed softly. "If you say so, even though we might be a little late for the day part."  
  
"After all we've been through, I'm not going to turn a little luck away." Teagan said.  
  
Jenna squeezed his hand and felt him answer with a pulse of his own. It made her smile as they walked together. As a consequence of their prolonged misunderstanding, they'd somehow lost the ease that had sprung up between them in Highever. A full reconciliation would take considerable time, but every day they grew in their understanding of one another and their togetherness, forging a bond stronger than before.  
  
A few days later, they were being waved away by a relieved looking Eamon, who couldn't be happier to be rid of the tempestuous couple. She'd have to find a way to make up for the constant fighting that marred the beginning of their visit, but in that moment she was just as relieved to be headed away from Denerim, though she was leaving the city without seeing her father. His business had kept him in Highever, though he'd made arrangements to come and see her as soon as he could. She was looking forward to his calming presence, and to asking him a few questions. Her upbringing may have given her glimpses of ruling, but it was vastly different in application than it was to watch and she desired his counsel. He'd always made it seem so easy to be fair, efficient and thoughtful.  
  
The ride home was much quicker than her trip to the city, and she marveled at how the countryside had changed in the few weeks she'd been in Denerim. Fields that had been the mud were now filled with crops and workers bent in the heat, busy tending to their livelihood.   
  
As the carriage took them home, Teagan made note of where they were and who was growing what and how the crops were doing. On a few stops, he made trades and spoke to the few nobles that had also left Denerim or had never bothered to venture there for the season. It amazed Jenna how easily he spoke to people, shaking hands and sharing ales, all to gain assurances of trades, new seeds and products that he'd take home. His mind was always thinking of his bannorn, and how to improve the lives of his people. It almost reminded her of watching her parents work, though it unsettled her to realize that Teagan asked for her opinions and thoughts because she was also now responsible for the people of Rainesfere.  
  
"I never thought I would miss this place so much." Jenna said with a small sigh as their manor house grew in the distance before them.  
  
She laid her head on Teagan's shoulder, and he gave her a squeeze with the arm he had looped around her waist. "I never thought you would either."  
  
"It's good to be home." She said, not wanting to delve into the past few months. He seemed to take his cue from her, and nodded in agreement. The two of them were silent as they were carried past their own fields, crops in various state of development, some already done for the year and others just springing to life in the moderate heat and humidity of the southern summer.  
  
That was one pleasant surprise about returning to Rainesfere. As they journeyed, the weather grew milder, and she stopped feeling like a wrung out rag every time she had to make the least bit of physical exertion. Jenna was used to the warmer temperatures, but growing up near the sea had meant there was a place for respite from the hottest of days and usually a breeze. Denerim with its mass of people and buildings offered no such pleasures, despite its coast but home was far enough south that the weather became less oppressive.  
  
It took a short stroll about the grounds for her to reawaken her legs properly, but she was glad to be back. The gardens had bloomed, and she could smell the mingled scents of food and flowers growing, the tilled soil that had recently seen rain. Teagan let her be alone, taking the time to oversee the unloading and consult with the stablehand, Dust, who looked excited at their return.  
  
When she finally went in, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimness of inside, but there was no mistaking it. The whole of the house was different, recognizable, but altered. Furniture and paintings that hadn't been there when she left filled the main room, and Jenna walked along, admiring everything. These were their things, some hers, some his, finally all together in the house like she'd envisioned just after their wedding. There could only be one explanation for this - Teagan. It was his doing, she just knew it.   
  
"Welcome home, Lady Jenna." A maid said, looking over from where she stood on tiptoe, dusting a mounted shield painted with the Cousland heraldry.   
  
It took a moment for her to find her voice, her throat stung with the bite of sentimental tears at the sight of it. "Thank you. I'm happy to be back." Jenna said finally.  
  
Teagan didn't follow her inside immediately, taking his time attending to the business of the house. He let Jenna find her way there at her own pace, hoping that his instructions had been carried out to the letter. Part of him was still making up for the past, for things he should have done last winter and hadn't. He was older and supposedly wiser than Jenna, but since he'd met her in Highever, he questioned that assumption.   
  
In Denerim, they'd stayed up late into the night, talking, figuring out their footing, fixing things. She'd forgiven him with a kiss that silenced his murmured apologies, and he'd tried to stop feeling so guilty and angry about it all. They'd screwed up, but were working on it, and to Jenna, that was what mattered, not what happened in the past.  
  
But it did matter to him. He knew they couldn't come back to Rainesfere and slip into their old roles. There had to be a place for both of them, it had to feel like they both lived and worked there, otherwise he'd go back to doing everything and she'd feel useless all over again.  
  
So there was new furniture, things rearranged and unpacked. Some of it was sent covertly from Denerim ahead of them, and the shield he'd gotten from Fergus Cousland after he'd explained himself. That had been one of the most awkward, strained conversations Teagan had ever taken part in, but it had accomplished his goal and earned him some goodwill with his new brother in the end. He hoped it would be enough, especially with Bryce coming to visit in a few weeks.  
  
He found Jenna in the dining room, looking around at the new banners on the walls, the additional chairs in the room, the new plates on the table. As she traced her finger around the rim of a plate, she smiled to herself, then up at him.   
  
"This is wonderful. Did you have this done for me?" She asked.  
  
"For us. I thought if we came back to a changed place, we wouldn't fall back into old habits. And it was time for a change." He admitted. When he'd come in, the change had been shocking, the house he'd inhabited for so long was at once more homey and impressive.  
  
"Oh Teagan, that was very thoughtful." Jenna said, impressed. "But you know, not everything between us needed changing." She whispered to him. Looking up at her husband through her lashes, she saw him smile at her words.  
  
She led him to their bedroom with such haste, the maids tutted in their wake.


	18. Chapter 18

Jenna found that she rather liked life in the south of Ferelden. True, it was very different from her home, but there were plenty of similarities. It was, after all, Ferelden, bound by the same laws and customs from the near frozen reaches of the south to the jewel blue seas that crested against the shores of her beloved Highever. She and Teagan made a point to go out together more than they had before, and the summer was passing for them in a comfortably relaxed manner. The townsfolk began to take to Jenna as their own, and she was enthusiastic and good-natured about speaking and getting to know the people. Some of the lessons her father had imparted started to finally come in handy, because she found herself easing into a new role as Lady Jenna, administering to the lands and people of Rainesfere at Teagan's side.

At home, things were happier between her and Teagan, until it was time to go to Redcliffe. While she liked the town, the visits were always a sore spot between them. She tried to put a good spin on the trips, for they were a chance to get things traded that she couldn't normally find in her small section of Rainesfere, and to hear news from travelers. Redcliffe itself never failed to lift her spirits - it was a beautiful town on a clear day, the castle rising protectively around it like a great guardian on one side, the hilly red land that gave the town its name on another and Lake Calenhad to the north.

As much as she liked the place, for it was hard not to love the sanguine soil dotted with green plants, and the oily smell of fish that reminded her of home, she liked the people a great deal more. They were another thing that comforted her in recalled Highever. Fereldans shared the same salt of the earth feeling to her, and she very much found it in Redcliffe. They were practical and hardy folk, with great affection for their arl and his brother. Many residents had lived there through the rebellion, and held a deep affection for the late monarchs, King Maric and Queen Rowan. The traffic from the west meant that they saw travelers just the same as the people of Highever did, though not quite as many over land.

At least once a month, sometimes more when they could and sometimes less often when they couldn't, they dined at Castle Redcliffe. At first, Jenna loathed these visits, because try as she might, she couldn't get along with Eamon. He gave her disapproving, scathing looks as she stared defiantly back at him, and both of them were protective of Teagan. Unlike with the Couslands and Oriana, she hadn't been accepted into the Guerrins as an honored sister and new wife. There was a grudge there, and it grew a thousand-fold after she and Teagan had such a rough start to their spring trip to Denerim. With later visits, she lapsed into avoidance and sometimes outright arguing with Eamon, though that never got her anywhere.

Isolde managed to bridge the gap between them. She and Jenna had grown close in Denerim, Isolde's son Connor taking to Jenna. The toddler was sweet, and his mother's pride. Isolde still faced great suspicion from many in the town, though providing an heir had made some of the townsfolk come around at long last. It hard to resist the image of the arlessa and her son both praying in the Chantry, or him riding on her hip as she took care of town business.

Connor wasn't with them on their trip down from the castle, he already fed and bathed for the night when they'd left, Isolde giving her son a kiss on the forehead as he was hustled off to sleep. The two women were leaving the Chantry after vespers, as the sun descended in a blaze low in the sky. Teagan had declined their invitation and Eamon wasn't nearly as pious as he wife, and felt no need to visit the Chantry more than once a week, if that. They elected to leave their husbands behind to talk, which suited Jenna. She was always glad to spend time with Isolde without Eamon, and suspected he felt the same way about Jenna's presence around his brother.

"You are happier." Isolde observed, waving a goodbye to the Chanter that they passed on their way out. A castle knight fell into step behind the pair of them, but stayed a distance behind. He carried an unlit torch that would have provided them with necessary light had the service gone on for any longer.

As it was, the sunset provided them with enough light to get to the path without trouble, and the knight followed along, nearly forgotten. In the way of courtly Orlesian ladies, Isolde linked arms with Jenna as they left the town behind them. At first had been a strange custom to Jenna, but once adjusted, she found it very comforting. It was like the casual squeeze of a hand that an old friend would give, the gesture rooted in a life Isolde had never truly lived but couldn't forget.

"Yes, and I am glad it shows." Jenna said. "Teagan and I have both had to make concessions, but in the end we are more harmonious for it."

Isolde smiled, the burnished sunlight catching the tendrils of her honey colored hair and making it appear auburn. "That is how marriage is. Teagan looks content as well, and that is good, for both of you. I began to wonder if you would ever smile again after Teagan came to Denerim." She sighed, thinking back on the time. While Isolde didn't blame Jenna as Eamon did, she did think her naivety had played its part in her marital troubles. "You mustn't forget, he has been alone and I think lonely a very long time. It will take time for him to adjust."

Jenna nodded; she'd thought along those same lines herself in Denerim. It hadn't been very long since they'd come back, but the problems that had plagued them felt distant as they enjoyed each other. The effects lingered, they were careful and sometimes lapsed into formality with each other rather than offend, but that was better than fighting. She hoped it could be sustained into the next cold season, or she'd might end up going back to Highever. It didn't necessarily excuse him in all the arguments they'd had, but put them into perspective.

"Now that Teagan and I are more stable, perhaps Eamon won't give me that disapproving look every time we come to visit. He does love to scowl at me." Jenna said. She tried to make it sound light, but it came out more petulant, as if she was arguing with Fergus.

To her surprise, Isolde laughed softly. "Dear Eamon. It will take more than a few visits to convince him, I'm afraid." Isolde mused, and then went on. "He is protective of his family, so like their sister. Perhaps even more so because of her. Has Teagan spoken of Rowan at all?"

"Not very much. I think that he still grieves in his heart and he's not used to sharing the burden." Jenna admitted. The words he'd let slip when they'd first met echoed in her head,  _'I don't want to have a marriage like my sister had.'_ Later he'd explained that he'd been very young and proud, looking at it from the point of seeing his sister altered to become what the country needed. She was a wonderful queen but with her warmth was turned to regal austerity, her personality suppressed by her duty. His understanding of the situation grew as he got older and more savvy, but vowed that his own marriage would be different.

Isolde nodded at her words, letting them fall into silence before speaking again. "Rowan was a force. Smart and funny, as charismatic as she was strong. I remember her from long ago, when she was newly married to King Maric. Sometimes, I wish she were here now, because her brothers looked to her after they lost their father. It is a burden that Eamon takes up now that she's gone." Isolde said.

"Were you in the resistance?" Jenna asked.

"To a point. Mostly I made sure that my family would not come and reclaim Redcliffe after Ferelden had won its independence. I stayed in Ferelden when the rest of my family left, because Eamon and I had already fallen in love." She shook her head and continued. "But Rowan was a woman who knew her strength and didn't hide it. She and her brothers shared that trait. Eamon respects strength and cleverness, and cultivates it in himself. He sees it in you, but fears you will break Teagan's heart."

"I wouldn't." Jenna asserted, stopping so suddenly Isolde had no choice but to fall back. Behind them, the soft clang of metal boots on the dirt path stopped as well. "I know things have been rough, but I would never." She insisted again, vehemence making her dark eyes glint hard in the waning light. Isolde squeezed the younger woman to her side.

"I know. Eamon doesn't know you like Teagan does, or like I do. He doesn't think he needs to. He thinks all he needs to know about you he learned from your courtship to his brother and your former surname."

"Ah." Jenna said, comprehension beginning to pierce her anger. She didn't need Isolde to explain more than that. The Cousland name meant many things to many people, and varied according to which noble was speaking it. Her father had always respected Arl Eamon, but in the way one respects an opponent, not a friend. "Will it take much to change his mind?" Jenna asked slowly, her mind working.

"Not with a little help." Isolde assured her, doing her best to best to put Jenna at ease. "Perhaps when he knows you better, you'll come visit more often." The other woman sounded so hopeful at the prospect Jenna nodded immediately at the words.

"I do enjoy seeing you, Isolde." She truly did, for she counted Isolde amongst her few friends in the south. In Denerim, there were a host of other people she knew socially and could call on, but here she relied on Isolde's steadfast support.

"And I you, my sister. Come let's hurry, the darkness is nipping at our heels." As they were getting ready to resume their walk, the knight lit his torch with the flint he carried and moved from behind them to walking ahead to illuminate the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, but I thought this friendship was important and needed to stand alone. I originally wrote this later in the story, but it fits better here.


	19. Chapter 19

Bryce Cousland had ample reason to visit Rainesfere, even without the concerns of his eldest child. Before he'd set out, Fergus had stomped into his study, arms folded across his chest. Fergus had been his eyes and ears in the city while Bryce was kept in Highever. His son had been in Denerim with Jenna when Teagan showed up, and informed his father that the new couple had been at terrible odds with each other, at least for the first part of the visit. He wasn't sure how permanent their reconciliation was, and had worried, despite Jenna's assurances. Always the fierce brother, he wasn't happy with the Bann even after Teagan and Jenna had seemed to mend their differences.

Though not without his own reservations about Jenna and Teagan, Bryce was reluctant to intrude once Fergus made his concern known to his father.

"It is private, Fergus." Bryce reminded him. "The same as it is between you and Oriana." 

"I know, but I can't help but not like it. Once Teagan showed up, they rowed until they didn't speak."

"But they made up?" Bryce posed it as more of a challenge than question, because he already knew the answer.

"Yes, eventually." Fergus said grudgingly. Still, I don't like it father."

Bryce sighed. "They are newly wed, and we must respect their privacy. Still, I will keep my eye out for anything...wrong." Bryce said, not sure how to state it. He would have done so anyway as Jenna's father, but Fergus's words added fuel to his desire to get to Rainesfere and see them with his own eyes. "And hopefully I will return and be able to put us all at ease. Your mother worries too."

"Just remind Jenna that we're here. Rainesfere is a long way from Highever, and she might be feeling a little alone." Fergus said. 

It was a lesson he'd learned the hard way, when Oriana had began speaking longingly of Antiva, a wistfulness in her voice that had pierced his heart with the strength of her homesickness. Sometimes one person wasn't enough to provide comfort, and no one person could replace the bonds of a whole family.

They hadn't been able to travel back to Antiva, for at the time she'd been heavy with child. Instead Fergus arranged for some cousins to come visit Highever, and dote on his wife the way only her family could. It had helped, especially since the guests arrived bearing traditional baby gifts Fergus hadn't even known about. Though not a visit home, it had cheered his wife immensely, and brought them closer together. It eased a gap he hadn't even known was there.

The visitors had been Eleanor's idea in truth, but Fergus oft forgot that part. Teagan had no such guide, save for Isolde, whom he loved but seldom listened to about such things. Bryce saw a more complete picture of the situation than his son, age and temperance bringing out subtle nuances that were lost to Fergus. But he still had a father's desire to make sure that all was well, and lingering guilt about how his anger had instigated such huge changes in Jenna's life. He'd wanted her married, but hadn't prepared himself for the reality of it at all. It conspired to make Bryce feel older than his years.

"I'll remind Jenna and Bann Teagan." Bryce said firmly, reassuring his son.

#####

The summer days were already growing shorter, the heat less intense when Bryce Cousland's carriage was spotted outside of Redcliffe. The visit was well timed - he would leave just before the harvests began and he would be needed back in Highever to prepare for winter, but would see Rainesfere in its busy season. Travelers and traders from Orlais and Orzammar from the west, the Chasind wandering up from the south, and one dazed hunter even reported a group of Dalish elves headed to an unknown destination had all come near their bannorn recently.

When her father arrived, his smile was as wide as his bronzed face, the mark of a summer spent near the shores of Highever. He was well, if a little tired from his trip south. All at once she was glad to see him and missed him more fiercely in his presence than she'd allowed himself in his absence, even as she was swept into his hug. He looked as she remembered, and for that she was thankful. It hadn't been long since she'd left Highever, not quite a year and if her father had aged visibly since then, she didn't know how she'd be able to bear it.

But he arrived, as hale and healthy as ever as she greeted him. Her mabari, Horatio, greeted her father too, all slobber and excited barking as he jumped up to receive his hug.

"Father, you've arrived! It feels like it's been an age since you've been here, but it hasn't even been a year."

Bryce swept his daughter around, twirling her as he used to when she much younger, though it took more of his strength than he would have liked. Jenna tossed her head back and giggled, her father joining in with her laughter. Teagan stood to the side, there but intent on not intruding on their reunion. Despite the vastness of the distance between their homes, father and daughter remained close at heart to one another. He was glad that his hastily inserted presence into their family hadn't changed that.

All of the normal questions and bustling about happened, handshakes and hugs, putting bags away and 'how was the trip?'. There were questions of weather and travel, of Highever and family, and well-wishes sent along from everyone that couldn't come. Promises of a visit from her mother and a book with a note in it from Brother Aldous, who had taught her lessons when she was younger. In his delicate hand, he'd reprimanded her for not having a book of Cousland history in her current home.

It was enough to make happy tears fill her eyes, though they never spilled onto her joyous face. Her smile was too grand, happiness and cheer at the reunion too firmly planted within her to allow for any sadness. Jenna was overall in great spirits, especially after her returning from Redcliffe. Her trip had been made a little easier by Isolde, but she didn't have it in her to start working for Eamon's approval that night. She settled for meeting in the middle, being cautiously nice to him and letting it be. It had been enough for Teagan, who commended her for being the bigger person.

There was much to talk of, between all of them but as always they started with the smallest of subjects, of trifles and greetings. Teagan began by enthusiastically shaking hands with Bryce, then letting Jenna show her father around. Jenna linked arms with her father, leading him out towards their gardens and fields, while Teagan supervised the unloading of the bags and trunk that had accompanied the teyrn. They met back for a meal where there was much discussion and trading of news, from events in Denerim to small things, like which castle guard had received a new post in Highever.

Despite the free flow of chatter between the three of them, it wasn't until they sat down for supper that anything was really said. Bryce had been shown around and put in a room, Jenna and Teagan both tending to their own duties and hovering over him until he decided to take a nap before the meal. Though happy to see his daughter, the fatigue of the journey made him pale and a little irritable, his smile strained until his respite.

"So father," Jenna began, pointing a spoon at Bryce once they were all seated for supper. "Tell me what it is that you're so studiously avoiding asking me and have it done."

Her father broke into a grin that was as much relieved as it was sheepish. "Your mother predicted you'd see through me, pup."

The servants quietly took their leave, exiting the room after a small motion from Jenna, leaving the jug of wine in the room. The table between her and her father was filled with food, far too much for simply three people. It was a small celebration, but a celebration still. The smell of some of her favorite dishes coiled in the air, but even those delightfully distracting scents did nothing to soften the look she was giving Bryce. 

"Are you both well, and happy? How are things here? You hardly write anymore, Jenna. I understand you've got a new life and things get busy, but you can't fault us for wondering and worrying a bit." Bryce said in a rush.

Teagan sat silent, letting Jenna speak up first. She took her time with the words, thinking a good deal before she answered. "I will say that we are well and all of our responsibilities proceed pleasantly enough, with the occasional outbreak of urgency. But that isn't what you want to hear. Nothing I could say would truly convince you, so I ask, do I look like a woman unwell or mistreated? Do you think my smile hides more than it reveals?"

Both Bryce and Teagan studied her, the dull glow of the candlelight glinting off her dark hair. Neither spoke, but the two men exchanged glances as Jenna placidly submitted to the silent inspection, outwardly ignoring them as she poured herself more wine. Finally, Teagan broke the silence.

"You know that I am a man of honor, of my word. If Jenna so desired someone else, or just to be gone from here, I wouldn't hold her." Teagan's voice was quiet, though conviction ran through it.

"That's enough of that." Jenna said sharply. "There is nothing wrong here, lest your eyes see deficiencies your mind manufactures. You'll be here long enough to see for yourself if words do not convince you. Father, I respect your concern, but please believe it is unwarranted."

"I meant no offense, pup. Or to you, Teagan. A father worries as much as a mother, but in a far different fashion." He explained, rubbing his eyes. Still, he apologized further, using platitudes to calm both Jenna and Teagan. Time would reveal all, as Jenna said. He had weeks to see if things were as Jenna insisted they were. Guilt still resided within him, knowing that his temper and interference had forced the situation of their acquaintance to play out differently than planned. Bryce wanted to believe them, but he was wary, with Fergus's warning ringing in the back of his mind. He hoped they were happy - for their sake as well as his own.

#####

 

Even with Bryce visiting, neither Teagan nor Jenna's routine wasn't upset by his presence. She and Teagan had found their footing in the months since their return from Denerim and with their ease, the people of Rainesfere were more open to accepting her. Her responsibilities had increased as well, as accepted her role as Lady Jenna. Bryce, for his part was content to see to his own work for part of the day and visit with her in the afternoons and evenings.

Though Teagan was a tad reluctant to be intimate with her during the first part of her father's visit, the memories of their engagement still foremost in his mind, they grew more comfortable the longer the visit stretched on. It was, after all, quite normal for the two of them to disappear together, or to make time in a hectic schedule for a private dinner. There was a noted decrease in casual affection between the couple for a while, and though Jenna understood, she lamented the propriety that necessitated it.

The afternoons weren't as hot and muggy as at the height of summer, but she still retired gratefully to bed after the midday meal to rest. It was there that she noticed her life most changed, because she felt at ease. The tension that had crept between them after their wedding had been banished by their time in Denerim, and in Rainesfere without distraction or interruption, it had been easy to find their way together. 

She lay with him one afternoon, not quite sleep and not ready to be awake yet. Teagan's beard was scratchy against her face as he kissed the pillow lines on her cheek, Jenna smiling sleepily as he did, catching his face in her cupped hands to return his kiss. Midday in the summer was always quieter than mornings, the damp heat providing the perfect time to retreat to the cooler indoors for a nap. She'd been alone when she came in to bed, and wondered how long he'd been sleeping next to her without her notice. When she ran a hand lovingly down his chest, his hand caught it and brought her fingers to his lips. 

And without a word, she was beneath him. It wasn't breathless or filled with mind bending pleasure, but comfortable and spoke of a connection deeper than attraction. A soft kiss upon her breast, her hand down his side, hips lifted in invitation. She wasn't wearing a dress while she slept, and he pushed her underclothes pushed aside, smallclothes removed with a quick, practiced hand. 

She met his eyes, watching how heat turned them into a dark blue as he slid into her. Her gasp was muffled as she bit his shoulder, her teeth feeling flesh through fabric as she heard his sigh. They were quick, the two of them mindful that there was much that still needed their attention, no matter how the desire to linger pulled at them. Jenna's moans were soft, her mind on nothing but the simple pleasure of the sensations of love making. Teagan's head was bent so that his forehead touched hers and though she closed her eyes at times, she opened them to watch his face, to kiss lips and chin as she felt him closing in on his release.

Afterwards, after he came with her name whispered hotly in her ear, after he collapsed onto her breast and the sticky sheen of sweat on her chest met the dewy beads from his forehead, he recovered his breath just laying against her. His hands went back to fondle, to tease her and ultimately to pleasure her. He coaxed a fierce, quaking climax from her, with fingers and tongue curling greedily into her until she called his name. They kissed languidly, the heat already beginning to sap the energy they'd recovered from their nap.

Outside the confines of their quarters, they went about their business for the rest of the day, the two of them sharing smiles and looks whenever they were near. It was the usual behavior for the Bann and Lady, and most didn't pay it much mind. The servants, at least, understood the ups and downs of relationships and knew their affection to be real.

The teyrn also observed this, and though a stab of white hot fatherly rage made him want to club Teagan for looking at his daughter in such a way, he doused it before it could truly manifest. They were wed, and it was no longer his place. He reminded himself of how he'd been with Eleanor when they first married, the heady times when he felt so lucky he could burst - for his wife was beautiful, stately and intelligent, not to mention deadly with a bow and arrow. It was the way of things, no matter how Bryce objected at that moment.

When asked, the maid simply shook their head and smiled in the general direction of Jenna or Teagan and pronounced them firmly 'in love's grip', and let Bryce draw his own conclusions. It was enough to ease the doubt within him, though it was still early in his visit.

#####

Bryce saw with clearer eyes after the first week of his visit, and understood more as time went on. He saw Jenna as Lady Jenna in her own right, not just his daughter, but working with the people of Rainesfere. He watched as they went to her, sometimes speaking to her instead of Teagan, and saw her gentle way with all the people, from angry farmholders to ragged children that pressed wildflowers on her, just to earn a smile from their lady.

He saw his son in law, not just Bann Teagan, but as part of his family for the first time. In him he saw a man content, happy in his life. Teagan had a practiced hand in ruling, but Jenna was no slouch, and people liked the both of them very much. They obviously got along well, and their growing closeness eased something within the heart of a father that worried with every beat.

They were two wonderful people in their own right, a fact he would have acknowledged even if Jenna wasn't his daughter. More than one of the wives around town teased Jenna about having a babe, which she laughed off with a mysterious 'maybe sooner or later' and a gracious smile. Bryce was already a grandfather once over, but had no objections to renewing that title. The thoughts of the townspeople echoed his own, but aside from a few cautious remarks and questions he never pushed on the idea.

It was enough that they were happy together. So many couples didn't even have that, and through all of their work and matchmaking, that was all they'd wanted for Jenna - the chance to be happy and matched befitting her station. He spoke with his daughter, and they took long walks in the gardens together, her mabari nipping affectionately at his heels, craving attention from a face so long unseen. Bryce was impressed with all they'd done with Teagan's modest estate, which bore the signs of both his daughter and the Guerrin family. A second son didn't inherit much at all, and Teagan's wealth was a direct reflection of his own acumen rather than Eamon's largess. 

Bryce frequently wrote his wife, calming her fears after his long journey to Rainesfere. In his last letter home to Eleanor before he started back towards Highever, he wrote of the bittersweetness that had come with the visit, seeing Jenna and Teagan made him realize what a wonderful woman she'd become, but she was no longer his baby girl. Still, it was good to know that all was well in Rainesfere. 

"This visit went too fast, dear father. Next time we'll come to Highever to visit you." Jenna said, giving him a tight hug as Bryce was leaving.

"Yes, I've been missing the fishing there." Teagan added. "And do give my best to the Teyrna, Fergus and everyone else." 

"I will, I will. They'll be glad to see all the gifts you've packed for them, even if it does slow my carriage down by a week!" Bryce said. He was hardly kidding. Gifts had been loaded into his bags and some in his satchel as he tried to leave. He'd never remember even half of the stories behind them and fewer of the words he was supposed to tell the recipients. It seemed there wasn't a soul in Highever that wasn't getting a gift. Jenna had even given him gifts for the knight the squired him and once trained her, Ser Gilmore.

Jenna shook her head playfully at her father. "Now stop, it isn't that much. Take care, father and have a safe journey."

Bryce cupped Jenna's face in his hands and kissed her forehead, whispering a last goodbye to her. After one more hug to Teagan, he was off, Jenna and Teagan waving behind the carriage until it was out of sight. Pushing away the curtains that covered the tiny window, Bryce watched the dwindling forms of this small branch of his family as he pulled away. Teagan hugged Jenna close, an arm around her waist, they stood watching as his carriage clomped off into the distance. It had been a good visit, all things considered. Eleanor, at least, would be glad to hear of all of the details.


	20. Chapter 20

As the days chilled Jenna and Teagan celebrated their first anniversary privately, quietly celebrating their bond. Jenna marked it as a day of growth and thankfulness, for she was thankful to be wed to a man she loved and liked as a person. Teagan thought of it differently, of a day that brought welcome change to his solitary and lonely life in the form of a captivating woman. For both it marked a renewal of their efforts to come together, to appreciate each other and themselves. No tangible gifts were exchanged, but other, deeper moments, tender and private, held many promises from the both of them.

Months went by, autumn turning into winter and warming towards spring once again. The thaw hadn't rightly begun in Rainesfere when they both turned their attention northward.

It had been a long winter season, the weather cold and icy for most of it. The temperatures had gotten well past freezing many days and nights, to the point where Jenna dipped into their storage and began distributing items where needed. Most of their villagers were prepared, but there was always a few that ran out before the winter did. Their food stores were ample enough to supplement for months if need be, but that was the point of such a harvest and a lord. Teagan always made sure that there was enough, when it was in his power.

A reluctant spring did break the chill at long last, green shoots coming up in earnest through the snowy ground. The tiny buds began appearing on the trees not long after the ice melted from the branches, bringing about a time Jenna both loved and dreaded. The start of the social season was always spring, and she had a part to play. This year it was Teagan that went ahead to Denerim for the season, hoping to appeal to King Cailan about some matter of taxes that Jenna had no interest in. It was his idea to go early and plead his case before the bulk of the other lords arrived from the bannorn. She stayed behind and saw him off to the court, promising to come into Denerim in a few weeks.

"Truth be told, I'm not so anxious to go back to the courtly life, not after last year." Jenna told Teagan as they talked after dinner a few nights before his departure. "It was such a disaster." She sighed. Truthfully, the memory of that season plagued her, though she was sure that most people had moved on to more interesting gossip since. The intense, negative focus on her was foreign to Jenna and she dwelled on it more than she should.

Teagan stroked a finger over her soft cheek. "It was never your fault." He felt his share of guilt for the lasting hurt it caused Jenna, but never for making a scene. Sometimes it was better to be a scandal than forgotten. Or at least, that had always worked for him in the past.

Jenna accepted the words, the implied apology and the kiss he offered. Instead of arguing or worrying her heart more, she got him ready to leave and they said their goodbyes when the day came. He traveled light, and planned on her arrival not too long after he'd settled in. The carriage was left behind for her - he was riding on horseback to Redcliffe and taking Eamon's carriage and Lady Isolde to Denerim. The arlessa was tired of the country after the dreary winter and wanted nothing more than to be someplace warmer, even if it was only by scant degrees.

#####

King Cailan never missed a chance to meet with his Uncle Teagan when he was in town. Besides his fondness for his uncle, who'd provided him with many hours of actual fun out hunting and hiking in a childhood that had little room for any sort of levity, he actually liked Teagan. They talked as men did, without titles or rank for the most part. They were family, and Cailan was aware that he had precious little of it to go around.

And he was ever so curious about Teagan and Lady Jenna. Not that Cailan would admit to such curiosity, but he did harbor a great wonder about their relationship. For the most part, he'd expected Teagan to be chaffing in marriage after such a long bachelorhood, but it had been Lady Jenna's fidelity in question during their last visit. While the matter was said to be resolved, Cailan did want to check in with his uncle. Perhaps a little visit from the finest of the Pearl would be in order, if it came to pass the Teagan and Jenna hadn't mended their relationship.

Though Cailan was married himself, he had little patience of the delicacies of marriage. While he was interested in what Teagan had to say about Jenna, he didn't trouble himself overmuch about their relationship. His marriage - though not his idea - worked out fine with little interference from either partner. He cared for Anora, let her do all the paperwork he didn't care to do and gave her lavish gifts. In exchange she bedded him once a month to try to make an heir, turned a blind eye to his mistresses and supported him in public. The only real problem in his marriage was Loghain.

But that wasn't what he wanted to talk to Teagan about. He didn't want to speak of his marriage or any thing of the sort for too long. It was a preliminary brought on by the smothered talk of the court - one moment Teagan and Jenna were a mismatch and the next they were desperately, totally in love. Cailan got so sick of hearing it both ways at the same time that he decided to just ask the source.

"So Uncle, I hope that things are going well for you and the beautiful Lady Jenna." Cailan said after dinner on Teagan's first night in Denerim.

They were ensconced in a study, the warmth of the fire chasing away the chill of the early spring evening. Cailan looked over his uncle, and decided that marriage suited him. He was looking less tired, the bruises under his eyes nearly gone, and his hair and clothes were neat and tended well. He looked happier as well, but whether it was marriage or the distance from his bride was yet to be determined in Cailan's mind. "I could hardly get away from the talk about the two of you last spring, and Anora likes her a great deal."

He let the statement drift away, not mentioning that he had no opinion on her because he hadn't a chance to do more than greet her last season. Jenna was young, gorgeous with dark hair and skin, but that's all he knew of her. That she's apparently slept with half her suitors before wedding Teagan had reached his ears, but he didn't blame her for that. It showed a sense of impropriety and cheek that he liked, traits that were in small supply among the nobles. They took marriage so seriously, as if they decided that fate of the world and couldn't be undone. Courting sounded like one of the truest of bores, and Cailan was glad his marriage had been arranged.

Teagan gave Cailan a rather sheepish smile, knowing what kind of impression he and his warring wife must have made during their last visit to the city. "Things are better than ever, Your Majesty." He said truthfully. "Bryce was down to visit in the autumn and we had a good winter, though it was hard on the people and we had to dip into our stores."

"Ah, but that's what we have them for, to call upon during hard times." Cailan said, waving his hand. "But I am glad to hear that you and Lady Jenna are well. I know too well the demands of being married. Anora and I get on well enough, but there are times when I miss being the prince." He sighed heavily and looked into the fire. "Perhaps we all feel that way at times." He said absently.

Teagan gave his nephew a level look. "I know that the nobility says a great deal about Jenna and I, but truly, we are happy. My wife is...an exceptional woman. She's a capable leader, as she's seeing over Rainesfere right now, and the people have come to respect and care for her. There's nothing more I could ask for."

"Good in bed?" Cailan asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"And against the wall, across the dining table, in the stable and especially in the bathing tub." Teagan answered, making Cailan roar with laughter.

"There should be an heir in no time then." Cailan pronounced, laughter still clinging to face. "And one less thing to worry about replaced with one more person to worry about."

"There is plenty of time for that yet. It is you that should think of heirs, Your Majesty." Teagan advised.

Cailan waved a hand, impatient with the question before it was asked. He tired of talk of lineage and Calenhad and Maric. "Don't start sounding like Eamon. If Anora does her part, I'll do mine." With a bit of a forced smile he added, "Now, let's talk about why you're really here so early and parted from a horny young wife at the beginning of the thaw. Unless you've come to Denerim just to give your cock time to rest."

"Nothing quite so interesting." Teagan confirmed, shaking his head. "The rest is not worth the parting, I should think. It is taxes, Your Majesty, that brings me so early to court."

In response, Cailan groaned. Teagan ignored it and kept right on going, because he knew with Cailan, he knew the way to get what he wanted - give Cailan the spiel and then back off. Wearing him down never worked, Maric's son had inherited his father's stubborn streak, it was a wonder that Eamon had never seemed to learn that after a few skirmishes, but he supposed his brother was just as single-minded as the King. Instead Teagan appealed to him then enticed him with outings and subtle reminders. The strategy had worked well for him in the past; he hoped it would serve this time.

#####

This time it was Teagan waiting for Jenna to arrive in Denerim for the season. There were the ever present whispers of course, after their last year, but he paid them no heed. He knew what they had and hardly cared what society thought they knew about them.

But Teagan was sure to give Jenna a very warm reception all the same. Memories of his past accusations haunted him at times, and he atoned by doting on his wife. There were Orlesian sweets, new fine Antivan leather armor, dwarven daggers made with runes - the presents were always useful or rare treats. Teagan even considered buying her sheets of printed music for her lute, even though Jenna had admitted to him that she wasn't very proficient with her lute. He wasn't entirely frivolous in the end and left out the music and several other gifts he'd considered and then thought better of but he did do his best to make amends.

Jenna accepted his gifts with graciousness, and within a few days of her arrival in Denerim they both calmed and grew more comfortable. It was a much easier season for them, improved by Eamon's late arrival to the city - his brother still was stiff and formal around Jenna, but had ceased outright hostility. That was something at least.

Most of the nobles in Denerim moved on to other scandals, because nothing was more boring than a happy couple. It was common to see Teagan's russet colored head bent close to her dark one as they stood together in the market, the two conversing quietly and laughing. Their closeness could never have been an act, even if they were so inclined. Word of it reached Calian from time to time and he was glad for his uncle, but a little envious on the whole. While he liked Anora, they weren't a love match. He had shockingly little experience with love - but with lust he was well acquainted. And lust could work wonders with the right person.

The truth of it all was that however they'd met or gotten together, Jenna and Teagan were in love and for the most part, happy.

#####

Cailan invited Teagan and Jenna both to a private supper at the palace, a few weeks after Jenna arrived from Rainesfere. He'd tried to pay more attention to her when they crossed paths, which was rare enough, but it seemed that he saw her less this season than last. Teagan came to the palace regularly enough, but his wife often begged off with other plans.

Which was a shame really, because Cailan would have liked to gotten to know Jenna. Bryce Cousland had been keeping his daughter away from the Denerim court for years, but there were plenty of stories about her. Stories that seemed to be true, since Teagan had reluctantly admitted the whole story behind his swift engagement and nuptials. Cailan found the story amusing, but the blush most interesting. Teagan had taken him to his first whore - and now here he was blushing about getting caught with his future wife? It would have made Cailan smile, if he believed in romance and all of that. As it was, he didn't, but he was very interested to speak with Lady Jenna.

There were few people in attendance besides Teagan and Jenna, but Cailan was sure not to invite Fergus Cousland. Though he found Fergus a good enough sort, he doubted Jenna would be put at ease by the presence of her brother, at least he didn't want her to be too aware of her brother's eyes and her own actions. Cailan had a mind to observe her and see how she and Teagan were under the influence of convivial hospitality, good food and alcohol. It was almost a plan worthy of his wife, though Anora was more versed in executing elaborate schemes than he. He never had a need to in the end, because she took care of it, and he was glad to make her seem the clever one. It meant his friends never suspected him and his enemies never saw him coming.

Cailan wasn't sure which Lady Jenna was, but that was the point of this supper. At least, it was part of his objective. More than anything else, including his curiosity about his uncle's new wife, Cailan wanted the dinner to break up the boring courtly suppers he'd been having since the season started. People fought and finagled their way closer to him, wanting to be close at any cost. It would be a blessed relief to spend at least one night in the company of folk who might actually joke with him or have a discussion that didn't hinge on his opinion.

Jenna wasn't one to be shy, but King Cailan made her feel like a girl again. The last time he'd visited Highever, she'd been a scrawny slip of a girl, charmed by the young prince. Granted, he'd only been around for a short while - he and Fergus had disappeared together and her brother had told her to bugger off - but it was long enough. While her parents entertained King Maric, Jenna had holed up in the library writing in her journal about the devastatingly handsome prince. It was a girlish fancy that fled in a few months when she got her first kiss from a squire, but whenever she saw Cailan since it roused the innocent wistfulness in her again.

She dressed carefully for the supper, selecting a gauzy, low cut dress in a deep golden hue that shimmered with bits of golden light with her every movement. Her hair she put half up, waxing it until it shone like ebony in the waning sunlight. On her face her color was light, just enough to highlight her lips and eyes, hoping that the sun she'd gotten on the trip up would favor her cheeks in candlelight. Jewels she kept as simple as her makeup, wearing only the signet ring that marked her as a Guerrin and a strand of brown freshwater pearls, their odd shapes and shining smoothness cool around her neck.

Teagan let out a low whistle when he saw her. "To think, I wanted to skip this dimmer." He said.

Jenna let out a tinkling laugh as she offered him her arm. "Shall we?"

Cailan made sure that Jenna was seated close to him, though it truly didn't matter with so few people. Aside from her and Teagan, there was only four other guests, an older Arl and his wife, Bann Darby and Bann Alfstanna. People that were both loyal and disinterested in ceremony, or at least gave off that appearance. Jenna was glad to see Alfstanna; they hadn't corresponded much since her wedding to Teagan.

There was no shortage of conversation around the table, and wine was poured quickly and often after their arrival At first, Cailan seemed inclined to make subtle inquiries about her feelings for Teagan. Though unexpected, it was hardly anything new. She endured this many times after their quick wedding, with varying degrees of suspicion. Eamon had been the worst by far, but Cailan caught her off-guard.

"One might get the idea that Teagan himself didn't propose at all." Jenna murmured, placing a hand on King Cailan's arm. "All these questions, as if I were the one sneaking into beds and not the other way round."

Cailan favored her with a small chuckle. "You're very honest, Lady Jenna."

"Much to the chagrin of my dear mother, I assure you."

Cailan did laugh this time, thinking of Her Ladyship Eleanor. "I'm sure you had her Ladyship at her wits end. Something tells me Fergus was no trouble at all compared to you, and he and I got into such trouble whenever we were together."

This time Jenna laughed along with him. "Fergus caused a good share of mischief, I will grant you that. But he didn't have precious virtue to protect." Jenna batted eyes too wide to be truly innocent at the King and Cailan laughed again. This time it was as if an invisible wall had shattered between the two of them, and he gave her a warmer look as he answered.

"You and Teagan couldn't be better suited then. He tries to play that hapless country gentleman role from time to time, as if people have forgotten the steel that my mother was forged from is in his blood as well. I think the two of you are probably the best thing that could have happened to one another, however it came about."

Jenna felt her cheeks flood with color and she wanted to look at the ground. Forcing herself, she kept Cailan's eye as she nodded, murmuring her thanks for the sentiment. She didn't often forget Teagan was more savvy and barbed than he liked to portray, but rather that his sister was Cailan's mother. She doubted that he remembered her well, but Cailan had heard the tails and ascribed her strength of character in his mind. It was clear that he respected his uncle.

But it was put out of her mind by the arrival of food. The King began to spread the conversation out more, letting it take a more natural course as the wine flowed between them. Despite the relative informality of the dinner, they were served a gorgeous meal. There was a salad of young greens followed by a hearty lobster bisque. The main course was a roasted pheasant with potatoes, and the meal finished with a selection of marmalade and sweet breads and a cheese tray.

No one could say that Cailan wasn't generous - the food was some of the best she'd ever had, the right touch of hearty winter food mixed with the first spoils of spring. It made her wonder how her own lands fared, if the planting season was good this year, or if it was cold rain and muddy land like it had been the year before. When she left for Denerim, the groundskeeper was nattering about the cold snap that had caused the ground to harden again.

As the continuous wine and good conversation washed over her, Jenna was acutely aware of Teagan next to her. She could feel the heat of his thigh close to hers under the table, and could see the firelight playing off his features in the corner of her eye. His large hands were on the table - he had a habit of gesticulating when he spoke - and they drew her attention.

A subtle tug on his arm got his attention, but Jenna faced away from him, still engaged in speaking to Alfstanna. She felt him pull his arm under the table and take her hand. Instead of threading her fingers with his, she drew a circle on his palm with the nail of her thumb. A large circle once, then again and again until he caught her fingers and stilled them. Her head spun and she took her wine goblet slowly with her other hand and took a polite sip from it. Under the table, his foot caught hers and she twined her leg around his.

Cailan was watching her, a half-smile on his face. It was knowing, yet far away and Jenna felt a pang of some strange, fleeting emotion pulling at her chest until Cailan nodded at her and took a sip of his own wine. Soon after the party began to collapse around them, and Teagan's hand rested ominously on the small of her back as they said their goodbyes.

"Uncle." King Cailan called Teagan towards the back of the room, leaving Jenna alone as the rest of the guests bowed their goodbyes to the King and rushed towards warm beds through the crisp spring night air.

She and Alfstanna lingered together, making up for the lost time in their correspondence. It had once been thought that she and Fergus might get together, but they weren't suited to be more than friends. Their father had been determined that both of them would marry for love, and when Fergus chose an Antivan that was more merchant princess than noble one, no one in their household said a thing. At least, not where any Cousland could hear it.

When Cailan and Teagan rejoined them, they looked as if something had just been settled between the two men. Farewells were extended all around, and as Jenna wished her King and host a goodnight, he winked at her. She couldn't help but smile back at him.

Teagan slipped an arm around her waist as they walked out, winding their way through the castle with the clank of a King's guard behind them. When they reached their carriage, the guard saluted as they scrambled in and turned back towards the castle. Over the noisy clop of hoofbeats, Teagan broke the silence.

"He likes you."

"Does he?"

"So he said right before we left. We are 'exceptionally well matched', so says the King." Teagan chuckled. "I think he might be right on this."

Jenna snuggled in closer, fitting herself into the crook of his arm. "Is that what you were discussing?"

"No, he just happened to say it. He's only just agreed with me on the taxes and tariffs we discussed before I came up early. I'm to go back tomorrow and advise him on it."

"All that convincing and talking, arguing over the details all winter and coming up here early to present your case was decided after a dinner and a plate of cheese?" Jenna knew that deals were made this way, but locked up in Highever, she'd seen little firsthand that her father didn't want her to know about.

Teagan pulled her closer. "Things work well in Denerim, don't you think?" He asked. She didn't answer, but sighed, half in frustration and amusement. At least things in Denerim were better than they had been year ago at the same time. She thought she could deal with politics and maneuvering better than whispers and rumors about her. But she said nothing, letting her eyes fall close and her husband take her hand. It was a good night all around, considering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of Part One. I will be continuing this story, but it will take place a couple of years in the future from when this chapter ends. The story will go through the end of the Blight, so I'm going to skip ahead a little. Between the parts, I might put in a side chapter or two, just so we can keep on eye on these two.


	21. The Masked Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an interlude of sorts between sections of the story. This particular piece is mostly PWP with no real bearing on the story. It is horrendously out of order, because it takes place far after the story I have planned.
> 
> There are teeny tiny spoilers for the Dragon Age novel The Masked Empire, because this scene is after Teagan's cameo in the story. There are mentions of pieces from the book, but no plot spoilers however, not for the Masked Empire or for anything to come later in this story.

Teagan was back from his time in the Orlesian Court, and he looked, well, he'd looked better. To Jenna's wifely eyes, she was simply glad to see him, but that didn't mean she skipped over the tired pinches near the corners of his mouth or the shadows beneath his eyes. He'd written to her a few times, and once about the intrigues at some sort of ball with the Empress Celene and her chevalier, but Jenna didn't know the details.

Then again, she really didn't need to - Orlais was always and perpetually caught up in their own Great Game. It wasn't much different in Ferelden in the principles, but it was the execution where Orlais excelled and made it their own. They did love their decoration, and nothing afforded them more than those ridiculous masks. Jenna would never willingly sacrifice even the tiniest bit of her vision for a silly fashion, but then again, she'd never taken to Orlais.

When she was younger, her father took her there and paraded her around to all the nobles he could find. Bryce, for whatever reason, was always desperate to seem more cosmopolitan, even though he claimed to dislike the Orlesians. Her father had taken her there, and though Jenna had a basic smattering of the language, could never take to the tongue. Antivan, she could speak well, but Orlesian felt like hard rocks in her mouth when she tried to speak.

It didn't matter. Teagan had gone as emissary to the crown, not her. It was just as well anyway, her first and last trip to Orlais had been disasterous, ending in a mutual agreement by her and her father to just never speak on it again. Now that she thought about it, that trip was probably the impetus for letting her choose her own groom. She'd been very disdainful to the Orlesian nobles she'd met, save for the few that were actually lords and chevaliers. Still, even those trained to fight didn't quite meet muster either, not in her eyes.

Teagan however, was hers, and she lay languorously on their bed while the last of his baggage was brought in. The bathwater was the last thing to come in, steaming and making the room gloriously warm when the maids brought in the heavy buckets. Jenna waited, alternately watching Teagan and examining her hands.

She heard the door close and just as quickly, clothes being discarded. Teagan must have been eager to get into bed, because he made no pretense of waiting for the water to cool before he got in it. She smiled at him. He'd written to her from Orlais 'they think I'm some dirty barbarian covered in furs'. They'd not think it now, if they saw him lolling about in the tub, though she was sure they'd find something to critcize. Orlesians are predictable in that way.

"Feeling better, Teagan?" Jenna asked. It was the first words she'd spoken since they'd greeted one another, and they came out strangely even to her own ears. For some reason, she was cagey around her newly returned husband.

"It is good to be home." Teagan replied simply, not opening his eyes.

Jenna snorted at him, and she did get him to look over at her then. "Tired of sampling the Orlesian life?" She asked.

"You were missed." He said, admonishing her more with his look than tone. "I didn't enjoy being away from home."

"Yet you went." Jenna answered, her voice as light as ever.

"One cannot ignore a royal request." He said, keeping his voice just as light, as level. They could have been discussing dinner plans or the harvest, but they both knew they were playing on a knife's edge.

They didn't speak for several minutes. The water around him splashed with his every movement, and she heard his quiet sighs of relief as he scoured the road dust from his every part. Jenna, for all that she was one of sneaking and subtlety during battle, had no patience for it here. "Did you sample the fine courtesans? Tire yourself out on fine Orlesian pussy and then come home to me?"

Teagan kept his face carefully blank. "I've never known you to be jealous, Jenna."

She shrugged, her shoulders making the silk of her peignoir whisper with the motion. "I am not unaware of the kinds of comforts provided to visiting ambassadors." She was in fact, unsettled, but not exactly jealous.

"You've grown vulgar in our time apart." Teagan mused, as if she'd said something crass and witty instead of laced with venom.

"Perhaps I always was. I have asked you on numerous occasions to 'fuck me senseless'." She reminded him.

He laughed. "You have, and I remember each time fondly." Teagan sounded more like a man thinking back over a glass of brandy than one with an angry viper coiled at his feet. Jenna was about to goad him some more, to provoke either an admission from him or a declaration of innocence when she heard him rise from the water.

She didn't look over at him, but Jenna finally removed herself from the bed. She went over to her vanity table, taking care to pay more attention to her modest supply of perfumes and paints than she did to Teagan.

He wasn't to be ignored though, not after that provocation. He was next to her so quickly she wondered how he got across the room that fast stark naked and wet to boot. Teagan leaned down to her ear, and spoke in a rumble that was more growl than purr. "Ask me." He demanded. A drop of water from his hair hit the vanity and splashed onto her arm.

"Did you?" She began, but Teagan cut her off.

"Not that. Ask me."

Oh. She made her voice lower, but sweet as candied honey. "Would you be so kind as to fuck me senseless, Teagan?"

She was upended in one fluid motion, her silk cushioned seat kicked aside, the palms of her hands supporting her as Teagan pushed her peignoir up past her hips. The fabric bunched around her breasts and threatened to slip towards her face as cool air assailed her exposed body. His hand was rough on the outside of her smallclothes, rubbing through the fabric in a way that was irresistible and destined for only one outcome. The other hand roamed over the rest of her, touching her belly and breasts, skimming over her backside and thighs. She felt the familiar callouses against her skin and wanted to sink into his touch, but didn't.

There was a matter of pride at stake here, and she wouldn't let herself scream the way she wanted. It had been too long without his touch, and Jenna wanted it, though she was conflicted and confused about everything else. They battled silently, her body betraying what her mouth wouldn't when wetness began to soak through the fabric of her smallclothes, and Jenna began to shake.

It was over in a lightning strike, and she did cry out with the heat of climax, but it was inarticulate, not his name. She thought for one moment that he might leave her after that, retreating back to his cooling bath, but she had requested that he fuck her senseless, and he had only started. He pulled her smallclothes off then, pushing them down her legs until she stepped out of them. Teagan spread her wide, touching her sensitive, throbbing slit to make sure it was wet, sliding a finger up and down and back again.

Even in her honeyed haze she could feel him, hard and massive against her cheeks. Teagan pressed in without further teasing, and her hips rolled back to meet his. For a moment they were silent, joined, and Jenna nearly cried because the two of them fit so well right then. They didn't move, and when she looked up she saw Teagan watching her in the mirror.

"Ask me your real question." He said quietly. It was a demand, though neither of them was in the place to demand anything.

"Were you unfaithful?" She asked. The words were less caustic than the ones she had in mind, but she couldn't find it in her to give voice to anger in her current position.

Instead of answer, Teagan moved. He thrust hard, sending her forward against the vanity, tiny pots of cosmetics and glass perfume bottles tinkling together dangerously. Jenna braced herself for the next thrust, equally as hard, and pushed back against him. She found that anger rising in her with his silence, and it was a good guide for her body. Her hands couldn't reach him to tug at his hair or leave scratches on his back, but her legs were strong and grounded, and she twisted her hips and rocked hard against him.

It wasn't to last. There was a quickening beat between her legs again, and Teagan's hands were running roughshod over all her parts. But as she pushed back on him, he caught her hips and they moved as one.

"You are mine." Teagan rasped at her. "Like lifeblood to me." They moved again, this time slower, almost excruciatingly slow after their earlier pace. "Lady Jenna Cousland. Then pearl of Highever. My wife." He thrust again, and Jenna's moan caught low in her throat, almost a sob. "In all of the Orelsian Court." He stopped and gave a hard laugh, then thrust again, in and out, quicker, but not nearly enough. Every part of her throbbed, another release on the horizon, but their slow friction wasn't enough.

"There could be no one to match you." Teagan finished. He rocked them as one more quickly now, then didn't stop, even as he spoke. "I could sample every woman in Thedas and not find your equal. I am yours alone. Just. Yours." He said, the last two words getting hard thrusts of their own.

Jenna was overcome, too hot and relived all at once. "Teagan." She wanted to apologize, but there was no way, he'd picked the pace once more and ripples of pleasure like waves were rolling down her spine. She felt him stiffen with his whole body and then she came with a deep cry, the rushing in her ears dimmed out all sound. The ferocity of the whole thing drained her, and devoid of her insecure anger and their heated passion, Jenna had nothing left.

"I am sorry." The whisper was all she could muster once she got herself back into the bed. Her body ached, and she felt defeated instead of sated, but it couldn't have ended any better than it did.

"I understand." Teagan said, smiling at her from his pillow. "They did try, several times. I can't tell you how offended those nobles look when you flat out tell them to stop with their infernal games." He chuckled to himself, and Jenna even gave him a tired smile. "But I am yours, always. No courtesan could ever offer enticement enough that I would forsake you."

"Tell me you won't be going back." She said, giving his hand a squeeze.

"Not if I can help it. They're primed for a spot of civil unrest soon." He said, then added, "and Ferelden offers comforts more befitting my tastes."

Jenna said nothing else, but smiled into his shoulder as she fell asleep. It was good that Teagan was home again.


	22. Antics in Antiva - Side Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a lengthier chapter that I was going to post as a one shot, but decided to put it here instead since it fits right in this break between the first and second parts of this story. It also introduces a D/s element to Jenna and Teagan's bedroom, but the scene doesn't explore it in depth.

"It is marvelous here, just beautiful. I cannot fathom why Oriana would have wanted to leave just to marry you, dear brother! I jest, I jest! Living here would be no hardship for me, especially not after enduring the winters in Rainesfere. I might even be inclined to take Teagan with me if I planned to run away!" --- A letter from Lady Jenna Guerrin to her brother Fergus Cousland.

The Royal Docks of Antiva welcomed them after a weary month at sea. After spending her whole life in Highever, near the ocean, Jenna had just come to the conclusion that she was not made for the sea. No matter how she loved to gaze at it, it wasn't her domain. It was a good thing that she'd married Teagan and went to live in the south where there was little open water aside from Lake Calenhad.

They were about the King's business, though it was as much a holiday s it was official visit. For all that she'd gleaned about Anitva, from stories told by Oriana and Fergus to things she read in books, nothing quite prepared Jenna for its beauty.

The water here was pure lapiz blue, bluer than any she'd ever seen, even the waters of Highever. Gulls flew overhead, making lazy caws as they fished. Wet rope was coiled next to her and she stepped around it as she turned to look back at the water. The sunlight sparkled over it, making the gentle waves at the dock lap over the side with glistening peaks. The cloudless sky made delineation between the sea and horizon impossible, it was all just an endless stretch of blue. It was beautiful.

As a stark contrast to Denerim, everything here seemed new, though Jenna was sure that wasn't the case. Wealth flowed through the city, its coffers abundant from the nobles, the Chantry and patriotic Crows. They had money to rebuild, to demolish old buildings they couldn't restore and to build anew. As a result, a glittering, prosperous city sprawled before her, beckoning her to explore it. Jenna breathed in a deep lungful of fishy air as she turned around in order to take in a panoramic view.

"Maker's breath it is hot." Teagan was just behind her and grumbling already about the heat. She loved her barbarian of a man, she did. But she thought, as she so often had before, that he would be happier in shack in the Frostbacks, just the two of them. It was a romantic thought, until she realized they would die in a rough winter that lingered too long or if bandits happened upon them. She was much better suited to being Lady Jenna of Rainesfere than to being anywhere else.

But he did have a point, the heat was blistering, even near the water's edge. The humidity wasn't overpowering, but she felt it making her skin prickle with perspiration already. The sun felt like high noon in Ferelden, though it was still morning yet. She was about to wonder what time it was when Chantry bells rang out the half hour. The sonorous chime swept through the whole of the city, informing them of the time. It was almost noon and that thought calmed her. It wouldn't get much hotter than it already was, not today at least.

She and Teagan didn't sit on the docks for too much longer. Teagan put an arm around her waist and led her away, their bags seen to be the servants that came with them. As was arranged, an Antiva Royal carriage waited for them. Her husband helped her into it at once, so she could sit out of the sun while the footman secured their luggage.

"Lord Teagan and Lady Jenna, be welcome in the Queen's name." The driver said, sweeping them a bow. "The rest of your luggage and attendants will be taken care of. No doubt you wish to rest. We can set off at once and start your visit."

He pulled on his mustache when he said 'vees-eet', rolling the word around to give it more meaning than just an ambassadorial trip. She hoped it was more than just a political visit. They could use the reprieve. Two King's Guards rode with them, men from Cailan's retinue that not only protected but showed their rank. It was Cailan's bidding that brought them here at the height of the season in Denerim. But Jenna didn't mind departing the viper's nest on orders from the King. She'd lost much of her taste for the city after that first year after they'd married and had been the focus of a torrent of gossip.

But that was behind them, and they in Antiva City for her first visit. The first impression was favorable, with the sea behind and rising spires of the city ahead of them. They rode away in a gilded carriage that bumped along the cobblestone streets. Barefoot children ran alongside, calling out a welcome to the unfamiliar faces. Women waved from balconies and men in front of taverns stopped gaming to watch them pass. 

A dog in an alley was eating from a pile of garbage, making Jenna think of her hound, Horatio. He usually came wherever she went, but they were told that hounds, even mabari, weren't held in high esteem in Antiva. Such a mark of outsider status could maker her or her hound a target for kidnapping. Thought it was unlike the Crows to go after ambassadors, it would not deter an ambitious upstart in need of quick cash from a ransom. She elected to leave Horatio in Denerim at the palace stables. There he was to be in stud service under the watchful eye of the Royal Kennel-master in her absence. 

Teagan took her hand in his as the rode on, but they didn't speak. They made so many turns and twists, Jenna was certain that there was ought amiss, but she could see nothing wrong. Later she learned that Antiva City was a mess of maze-like streets and corridors, building mashed side by side wherever they could find space. It must have made work easier for the assassins, Jenna observed as they lurched around another corner.

Whatever the reason for the labyrinthian city streets, they saw a lot of the city on that first ride. Most of it swept by her tired eyes without registering the sights. However beautiful it was, she was still fatigued. Sleeping on a shop wasn't restful for Jenna, and their trip had been long. She wanted a bath to wash away the sweat that was rolling into every crevice of her body. Instinct compelled her to pull away from the heat of Teagan sitting next to her, otherwise she'd need to get out her fan. They arrived at the palace in dusty and intact, their luggage taken up just behind them. They were led up to their rooms to refresh themselves before being presented at lunch, which would happen an hour after noon. Few people were awake at midday, the custom being to sleep through the worst of the heat.

After their first day, they picked up the routine of the palace with little trouble. They met the Antivan Queen, who was a great deal older than Jenna had realized, and she left most of the talks to Teagan. He'd been here before, and some of the courtiers welcomed him back. She was here to observe and learn, since it was her first trip.

The ladies of Antiva weren't the painted and conniving ladies of Orlais. They were just as scheming in their own way, but there was no Game here. They had their own nuances but politics happened akin to the way things played out in Ferelden. Jenna observed and noted who cozied up to the queen and who seemed to be in disfavor. Each night Teagan shared his own thoughts and revelations with her, and by the end of the first week there, she thought she had a good grasp of the situation.

Was she ever wrong about that.

Propriety was held above any other guise that an Antivan might don. The ladies dressed in the best, most lavish styles, but not scandalously at all. Tanatalizing bits of flesh were never on display here, at least not by the women. There were so many rules and nuances, Jenna only began to feel confident after a week of careful practice and observation. 

Then all the proper ladies she'd met decided to let her in, all at once. 

She supposed it could have been meant as a joke - a trick to see how the Fereldan noblewoman would react. Indeed, at first that was what she was inclined to think. 

Her companion was called Mireya Alvares Jimenez de Montilla. She was a cousin to the queen of Antiva, a young woman recently married to a wealthy lord. The match must have given her even more status, because she was as pompous and imperious as any Orlesian. She only respected that Jenna came from a noble house and had married King Cailan's uncle. It was clear from her tone that she thought little of Fereldans in general, but didn't seem to mind Jenna.

"Senora Guerrin, por favor, let us take our leave today." She'd come to the door at the same time as always, but tonight there was no business of court. The Queen liked to have time for consideration before business picks up again. The next day was for worship - almost two whole days off from the politicking. Tomorrow there would be a service at the Chantry in the morning, then a long lunch and siesta followed by a large dinner. At dinner business would start back up for the week, though all table talk was informal.

The week they left the night would be hold a great ceremony of friendship and a lavish dinner, but that wasn't for two more weeks. Before then there was much to learn about, to lobby on King Cailan's behalf and to explore. Next week Jenna and Teagan would tour a prominent vineyard with Her Highness and some of her courtiers.

Jenna was pleased that there would be some break, however brief for them. She went with Mireya to a distant room in the castle. Women were kept separate here - married and unmarried women corralled into differed spaces. It didn't matter the ages, women who had never married, were considered pure, and thus didn't involve themselves in the talk of married ladies. Not that the talk ever got lewd or anything close to it where Jenna could hear. Antivans were a restrained bunch until they weren't. She could feel it simmering under the surface, but she hadn't yet seen it in action.

All it took was one lillo flute playing and a glass of wine, and then Antivans would be as warm and passionate as they were reputed to be. At the court, and especially among the ladies, all was proper.

So it took Jenna quite by surprise when she found out how Antivans played. The nobility was hardly different than their Orlesian counterparts when left to their own devices. That day the ladies were sitting around, talking and painting watercolors as usual. They went for turns about the garden, heads together, talking business and rumor - but this day was different. It had a frisson of excitement that other days had not held, even the day when she'd arrived from Ferelden. 

It wasn't clear what was going on until it began. After lunch they would retire and be free to go to their chambers or pursue whatever they liked for the rest of the night. 

Two trays were brought in, piled high with gleaming red crystals. At first Jenna thought it was a display of the rubies that Antiva was famous for, but then she saw that they were much too small to be jewels. The ladies began by ignoring the silver plates piled high with two types of crystals, one a deep rich crimson hue and the other a delicate pink. She wondered what they were - they smelled a little peculiar.

A young woman, one of the youngest in the room walked over and took her pick of the treats, looking serious as she selected one. After due consideration, she took a red one and nodded though no one nodded back to her. Then as if she'd granted them permission, the ladies fell upon them. She noticed that no one took more than one but they were deliberate in whether they took the pink or the deep red crystals. Jenna watched curiously as Mireya popped a pink one into her mouth.

"Senora Guerrin, will you not partake?" An older woman asked, waggling her eyebrows at Jenna.

"I'm not sure..." Jenna began, but another woman cut her off.

"Haven't you seen how her husband looks at her? She had no need of this." Another woman, this one called Pamela Flores y Castillo de Delgado. She was always bossy and Mireya sniffed every time she spoke.

Except this time. Mireya was nodding her her in agreement with Senora Pamela, and Jenna was more lost than ever. "What does Lord Teagan have to do with this?" Jenna asked.

The women around her either tutted or laughed. "Give her one Mireya, and let her figure it out for herself."

MIreya pulled her off to the side and whispered one quiet word in her ear. "Orichalcum."

Jenna's eyebrows shot up. "What, in those crystals?" She asked. Mireya nodded at her. 

"They are mixed with wine and hardened into a crystal, like a candy. It helps to get rid of the unpleasant taste." Jenna knew to what she referred - orichalcum, when mixed with wine could make an aphrodisiac but it stunk like lye.

"And the color is the potency of it?" Jenna asked, filling in the blanks for herself. Mireya nodded again. She'd seen her take a pink crystal, and was surprised she'd even taken that. Mireya didn't seem to like her husband much, but then again, perhaps she wasn't going back to her husband.

Jenna strode over to the table and picked up a dark red crystal and stuck it in her mouth. Once and just once before, she'd tried orichalcum. She recalled how the sensation had spread through her, like a fever that picked up strength until it burned itself out. The candy began to dissolve in her mouth, leaving behind a wine flavored aftertaste. It was more pleasant than drinking it, but sucking it made the lye taste come out. She wasn't sure that this was better than a glass of wine that could just be downed, but it wouldn't do to spit it out now. Would this even work? It seemed more and more like a fancy that these prim and proper ladies concocted to conceal their natural desires. Antiva was no hedonistic Orlais, and they stuck to strict rules of propriety here.

But her doubts were laid to rest as the candy grew smaller in her mouth. The taste of it got better as it wore on, a lazy warmth spreading up from her toes. Oh yes, she knew this feeling. When she'd selected the ruby red crystal, the other women around her made nosies of approval or disbelief, but went back to their own conversations. They'd already taken their crystalline favors and she was just a small amusement. Jenna found her way back to Mireya.

"What's the point of this generous favor?" Jenna asked sotto voce. She didn't want the whole of the room to explain it to her.

Mireya smiled wickedly at her. "It is a game, Señora. You will flush with want before you even get back to your rooms and your esposo won't know what got into you. What you do after that is your business." She said shrugging. That didn't quite explain it to Jenna, but she didn't press for further answers. So Antivans did play games much like the Orlesians they despised, just not in the same way.

True to her warning, Jenna felt the familiar stirrings of want making itself known. It began with a warmth in her breast, which she used her lace fan to cool herself, to no avail. Then she wet her lips with her tongue. A look around showed her other ladies crossing and uncrossing ankles, fans flying vigorously and flustered hands with too much energy. It was starting.

Before the women could get too uncomfortable, the bell in the room rang, and with it a collective sigh of relief. This bell usually signaled meals, but today it was a dismissal, letting them all roam to their paramours. Some of these ladies were not headed home, and they were the ones that walked fastest, though no one was so gauche as to run. Even if they were Fereldan they wouldn't have run, at least not within sight of other people.

The hallways here were lined with royal guards and Jenna did her best not to run back to her rooms. At a fast walk, she trotted down the corridors to where she was almost certain Teagan would be waiting. The ladies parlor often kept her longer than he, and she expected him to be in their bed, ready to doze with a book in hand, as he had been every other day at noon. Jenna smiled at the thought and let it speed her steps. The guards were impassive as she glided by them, mind intent on getting to Teagan. 

Except that he was no where to be found when she finally got to their room. Perhaps with the orichalcum in her, she'd been swifter than she'd realized. He'd certainly be along soon, if she could just wait. The heat creeping over her body increased in intensity with every second, but her mind gave her the illusion of control. Surely Teagan's arrival would be a matter of moments, and then she could tell him of her foolish decision. They'd laugh later about this, once she'd gotten it out of her system.

Jenna waited as best she could, feeling the effects of her crystal treat keenly as she did. Her dress chafed her skin, she felt every stitch pulling at her. It had to come off. Sweat broke out over her skin and no amount of fanning could help her. She could feel it pooling in the hollow of her neck, beading above her lip. If she could get her clothes off, it would help. It was far too hot for the dress anyway. There was an inconvenient row of buttons in the back, she'd never be able to get this off by herself. Her hands were frustrated by even the simplest of buttons on her sleeves, but she didn't want to ruin the dress. Jenna grit her teeth and undid as much as she could on her own, managing to slither out of the dress once she pulled it down far enough. There! She breathed a sigh of relief. It was much better in just her smallclothes - Antiva was too warm for dresses. 

There was still no sign of Teagan, but Jenna didn't let that diminish her triumph. She was alone and gloriously free of her encumbering dress. She left the offending garment draped over a chair and moved back to the bed. If there was one wonderful thing about Antiva, it was the quality of their fabrics. Their bed was a mix of textures and weights, for the nights could be either very warm and humid or cool, depending on the rains. The sheets were washed linen, appropriate for all sorts of weather, and soft from the washing. Jenna's beds at home were heavy with Orlesian silks from her trousseau, though she'd never favored silk herself. She was determined to get a few sets of the more durable and comfortable Antivan linen sheets to take home.

Once she pushed the coverlet back, the linen provided a welcome coolness against her skin. The soft brush of fabric across her skin was almost sensuous. Jenna found herself repeatedly moving her limbs against the sheets just for the sensation. It was so delightful - how had she never enjoyed it before?

A soft moan escaped her as she continued to wiggle against the bed sheets, and Jenna closed her eyes. She could only hope Teagan showed up soon, before she got any worse.

#

The air was thick with cigar smoke, though only a few of the noblemen still lingered. He'd already had an audience with some close advisors to the Queen today, though nothing solid had come from it. They were still doing business as they decanted brandy and lit the sweet smelling tobacco in their fat cigars. The day was a short one, there was little formal about it but it held an edge of anticipation that Teagan didn't understand. He'd noticed it, but it had meant little to him without knowing why the undercurrent was there. 

Most of his companions had left when the bell sounded. They did everything by bells in Antiva, bells for dinner and bells to announce the mingling of the men and women. It was much more organized than any other system else he knew. It was as if the devout Antivans had taken their love of the Chantry and applied that discipline to their courtiers. It didn't bother him - in a way it was quite refreshing to know where the hard limits were and when he would be stepping out of bounds. Antiva's quagmire of politics didn't come from a disjointed confusion, as it did in Ferelden. Here it stemmed from the more traditional source of people vying for power they hadn't earned and didn't understand.

The leather armchair where Teagan sat was clustered into a small group in the corner of the room where only three other men still sat with him. Not a few minutes before a bell had rung, and with it a collective breath exhaled. Most of his colleagues, men who loved the wheeling and dealing, that spoke in flowers thick with thorny intent most days and never tired of the game had simply vanished from the room. It was some rest that Teagan was not aware, but he didn't want to relinquish his chance to learn more.

One of the men still sitting with him was the venerable Don Pedro Ramos y Flores. His wife, the Doña Pilar was his third, a much younger woman that had old family ties but little power. They had a young son together, in addition to his grown children from his previous wives. Teagan didn't ask whether his former wives were still around or not. He got the feeling that one didn't ask too many questions about Don Pedro. 

The other two men he'd conversed with before but didn't know as much about. One was a young nobleman that had some kinship to the Queen, a cousin, if Teagan remembered correctly. He was called Gustavo, and was dressed like a dandy, in clothes so new they still had their tailored stiffness, but he was amiable enough. The last was a man of an age with him, obviously an outsider with his thick Starkhaven accent. Lord Baird was a widower, his wife had taken fever and died two years previously, but he stayed active in the court to advance the place of his children. Baird had a string of successful wineries, stemming from the first one his wife had inherited. He had a goodly amount of money, but was modest about his own success. Word had it that he was beginning the search for another suitable wife, and he wasn't limiting his eyes to just Antiva. He wanted power, but Teagan wasn't sure what kind.

The bell rang and Teagan didn't want to leave since he'd just struck up his conversation with Don Pedro. The older man was wily and hard to corner. Every time Teagan thought they might have a conversation, someone else either broke in or Pedro slipped away. He must have had a hint that Teagan wanted more than just idle chat - to gain the ear of Don Pedro was to gain influence with a power courtier, a wealthy businessman and beloved noble in his own right. He advised the Queen of Antiva in matters of exportation. A useful fellow to speak with on all accounts.

They continued speaking as if the bell hadn't rung and Baird had given Teagan a grim smile when he settled into the chair opposite him. When Gustavo sauntered over to join them, the other three men exchanged a look, but no one spoke out of turn. Teagan was finished presenting his case to Don Pedro and began to apply himself to Baird when Gustavo spoke out of turn.

"Aren't you going back to your rooms, Don Teagan?"

Teagan looked up, puzzled by the question. "Forgive my bad manners in keeping you all. I just didn't want to end the conversation early." He said, cautiously apologizing. He sensed he'd made a mistake already, but didn't know what.

Baird raised an eyebrow at him. "Maker's Breath man, I've been here so long I'm acting like one of them now. This afternoon they're playing the game. You'd best be going, if your Lady is waiting for you." He said, explaining without saying anything at all.

"Lady Jenna?" Teagan asked in confusion. "She's waiting for me?"

At this Don Pedro let out a hearty laugh. "My wife is surely not waiting in my bed, which is why I'm still here. But the Dona Jenna is probably missing you right now. You shouldn't keep her waiting."

A strange hard knot formed in Teagan's belly. "Is there something wrong? What game is there tonight?"

Gustavo gave a laugh, but then he turned around to a desk tried a locked drawer. Once he was sure it was locked tight he produced a key from somewhere on his person and opened it with a click. When he came back to Teagan, he had several pink crystals on a white handkerchief and was holding them out in the palm of his hand. "There is a game, and these are the favors." He cocked his head to the side, considering for a moment before going on. "It is wine mixed with orichalcum, but I only have a mild amount here. There is more, ruby red and more potent that some of the ladies take. They then go back to their rooms and let the fire burn through them with their lovers. Sometimes it is our turn, in which case none of us would be sitting here." He finished to the laughter of the other two men. 

Teagan felt his face flush hot. They'd taken these candies that were full of orichalcum? Surely Jenna wouldn't. But then he thought about it.

"Perhaps his wife abstained." Baird speculated, but Teagan stood up quickly. 

"Excuse me, gentlemen. It seems I am needed elsewhere." Teagan said.

Gustavo raised an eyebrow at him. "It won't be so bad if she took one of these pink ones. It takes a while to course through the system."

Teagan almost laughed, but held it in. Instead he shook his head. "You don't know Lady Jenna. She would have seen it as a challenge."

All the men laughed at that but it was Don Pedro that spoke first, a twinkle in his eye. "Then you must fly."

And Teagan did, not caring who saw him running as he cursed whomever had put his rooms on the opposite side of the castle.

When he got to the room, Jenna was there. He knew she was there, because he could hear her panting before he'd even opened the door. When Teagan did get into the room, careful to lock the door behind him, Jenna took no notice.

She was mostly naked, no stockings or garters, but wearing a loosened corset and her smallclothes as she lay on the bed, moaning. He watched for a moment, fascinated. She wasn't just atop a pillow, rather she'd mounted it, trapping it between her body and bed as she rubbed up against both. He couldn't see much of it at all, save for a gold tassle that poked out from underneath her hip as she ground against it.

"Jenna." Her name seemed loud in the room, but not enough to drag her out of her haze. She was gone - her eyes clouded and face confused as she turned to look at him. He could see sweat on her brow and the tops of her breasts, glistening as they slid in and out of place in the loosened corset, never quite making it to freedom.

"I'm almost there." She whispered, but then added. "Oh Teagan, it's not enough."

He'd taken orichalcum before, and knew exactly what she meant. The pleasure was heady and prolonged, but the fever of want persisted until it burned out of the system, no matter what release was given. All she could do was enjoy it, as best she could.

He put his hand down her smallclothes and finished her, finding her slick and hot and ready. Jenna must have been close already, because his fingers slid into her pumping in and out only a few times, before she began to tremble. His knuckles rubbed against her bead incidentally, without any real intent or rhythm and yet she crashed hard around him. She mewled against his chest, relief and release threaded through the sound. The intensity of it was almost made Teagan jealous, because he wanted to feel that ferocity inside of him, the want that blanked out everything else, but he let it pass. If they'd both had the treat, it would have been too much. He supposed that was how the game was supposed to be played, and no doubt this session had been staged for their benefit.

There were times when he and Jenna made love, and it truly was something beautiful. They were comfortable and caring, and had outgrown much of the initial awkwardness in their relationship. It was a transcendent experience brought forth by the strength of their connection, something he hadn't realized was possible until well into his marriage. But this wasn't one of those times. There was no deep meaning between this coupling, just physical need. He didn't mind slipping back into that role on occasion. Teagan stripped off his clothes and threw them across the room, letting them land where they may, so long as it was far away. Then he applied himself the last bits of underclothes clinging to Jenna, and peeled them off of her.

Her eyes met his as he did, and the primal lust within them made him shiver. "Teagan." Jenna said, his name heavy and meaningful from her lips. He felt like she'd marked him with that stare as she said his name, as if they'd come to an agreement. She could take all of him, if she so desired. He would be exhausted come the morn, but that mattered little to him.

The heat of her infused him and Teagan wasted no time sheathing his hard cock within her. Jenna gave a satisfied moan as he slammed into her, with no preamble or finesse. He didn't care. Just the thought of her had made him speed towards their room, and the sight of her riding a pillow had nearly sent him over the edge. 

His hand went to play with her hard nipples, dark and puckered tight in anticipation of his touch. He grazed them with the pads of his fingers, like he was playing a guitar with the strings too taut and out of tune. Jenna whined at the contact, thrusting her chest out, needing more.

She was clenching and bucking beneath him, a wild thing, unsatisfied to let him direct the action. Teagan let her roll him over so that she sat astride him and he was laying with his back on the bed. Once she was on top, she rode him in a frantic, furious manner. Her hips ground hard and artlessly against his own, perspiration beading on her skin and catching in the hallows of her collarbones from the effort. If he had been younger, just watching the amount of effort she put into fucking him - the frenetic pace that made her hair loosen in a slight halo around her head, the twists and wiggles that were as much for her pleasure as for his - he might have finished in a moment. But he was not that young man anymore and though he was thoroughly enjoying himself, Teagan put some thought into how the rest of their night would play out.

He had not had the orichalcum, which not only blessed with libido but also stamina. Jenna could ride him until he popped like the cork on a bottle of warm champagne, and be back for more after a few satiated minutes. Her age was a small factor, but it was more her nature, it enhanced what was already there and she often craved lovemaking more than he did. Eamon told him once that it was one of the benefits of a younger wife, that her desire was flattering, made him feel youthful again. Teagan wasn't sure if the prim and staid Isolde had ever tried this herb and gone to his brother's arms. It was almost unthinkable.

Jenna wasn't like the cautious arlessa. More outgoing and extroverted, but easily bored and reckless, she would have thought nothing of the night after taking her treat, save for the rush of the first climax. It was like a balm to soothe the raging storm at first, until the storm gathered its strength again and rained down with more force. She was in the grips of it now, leaning back slightly as she rode him, sweat making trails down the smooth expanse of her stomach. Through all of his thought, he could feel his body nearing release, but he reached out and pulled her towards him instead of adjusting their rhythm.

He let her fall apart, his skin touching as much of her as he could as she did. It was a lovely sight, but even better to feel against him. The rapidity of her breathing, the shudders of her body from all angles - they were his to share, his to treasure. The orichalcum did that too, enhanced every feeling to make it more intense. It spurred his climax, coaxing his release with the intensity of hers. With it, he bit into her shoulder and felt her fists pounding on his back, but her cries were only those of pleasure. Teagan let all this thoughts flee as he let the post-coital languor settle throughout him. 

Jenna lay beside him, her breathing slowing in time with his. She would regain herself much sooner than he would, but Teagan's earlier thought had formed into a coherent plan in their brief respite.

"I had a thought." Teagan began, but then paused, carefully picking his words. Jenna looked up at him from where she lay against his chest. She was satiated for the moment, and this was the best time to ask her. "It might work out well in your...current state, but I would understand if you did not wish to try it again."

"I'm intrigued. What is it that you propose?" Jenna's fingers lazily drew circles on his chest, the contact mesmerizing.

"Let me bind you to the bed. Just your wrists, not the legs." Teagan said. "We can do it safely, there are silk scarves in here that won't cause the burn of rope. If we settle upon a distress word, a word not normally said in pleasure, and promise to stop when it is uttered, we can make sure that neither of us is uncomfortable. You'll be in very good hands, I promise."

Jenna raised an eyebrow at him, her face showing her surprise. "It sounds as if you've done this before, husband." 

He didn't deny it, since it would have been useless to do so and he didn't mind telling her. Such a subject hadn't yet come up in their bedroom play, which was limited as of late because of their duties. "I enjoy control, and sometimes letting another have it over me. It's not something that came up in our bedroom habits so far, but in your current state, I thought such a game might be fulfilling."

"And orichalcum and wine?" She asked, curious to know if he'd ever endured the pleasurable suffering of the aphrodisiac.

"I've tried that too, though not the way the Antivans make it." He laughed. "They've seemed to have made a treat out of it, which should be more pleasant than drinking it down. It stinks of horribly lye once it mixes with the wine."

Jenna nodded at that and Teagan went on. "I've even done it once or twice at the same time as using the bonds but not very recently." He grinned at her, "though you are making me wish this was one of those times."

"What will I do whilst bound? Am I to be purely submissive in this role?" She asked.

"That's the idea."

She considered for no more than the space of a few moments before replying. "If I say 'Highever' it will stop all of this?" She asked.

"If that is what you choose."

Jenna smiled crookedly at him. "Then bind me, Bann Teagan. The orichalcum is working its way through me again and my hands have minds of their own."

"Highever is your word then, if you become uncomfortable?" He asked, making sure that this was something she'd remember.

"It is."

With that confirmation, Teagan rolled away from his comfortable spot and in quick order brought out the silk scarves. Jenna gamely repositioned herself in the bed, laying down so that her hands could easily reach the headboard. He'd never thought much of wrought iron scrolling before, it was too ornate for his tastes and a little too Orlesian in the execution, but it was perfect here. He bound her wrists to the bottom of it, spread a little so that they weren't too close to her head. Had he wanted to tie her feet to the end of the bed, she would have been perfectly spreadeagle against the sheets.

"Highever?" He asked, one last time.

"Not yet." She said, her grin audible. 

"Good." Teagan answered, but she didn't respond because he then set to teasing her nipples with his tongue. He wanted this to last a good long while, so he started deliberately slow and relished the low moan he got even with the slightest scrape of his teeth across the sensitive buds.

It was different from their usual quicker pace, and different still because Jenna used her hands a great deal to guide and give pleasure to either one of them. This was just his actions and her response to it all. And he had all night - which he intended to make good use of.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Two

Three Years Later, 9:29 Dragon

Jenna grunted as her side met the powerful wall of Teagan's shield, her balance shattered by the blow. She let herself fall into the motion instead of fighting it, but the wind was knocked out of her as she hit the ground. Breathing didn't come easy right after, every inhalation agony as she tried to endured the aftershocks of the forceful hit from the shield. At least Teagan's shield arm was as strong as ever, she thought wryly. With her eyes closed, she lay there, helpless against the pain.

She heard the clatter of Teagan's weapons as he let them hit the ground, the reverberation sending unwelcome shocks through her aching head. When she opened her eyes, Teagan was above her, kneeling in the dirt at her side. His brow was furrowed with worry and dirty from their exertions. She grimaced up at him, her expression meant to be a smile, but she couldn't quite manage it through the throbbing pain.

"Jenna, are you alright?" he asked, holding a hand out to her.

"Will be," she grunted, using him to pull herself upright.

She winced with the pain of the motion. Her vision swam in sick inducing waves around her, and she closed her eyes again, concentrating on her breathing. Oh, that had been a rough blow. It felt like she might even be sick of the shock of the impact.

"Maker's breath! You scared me, Jenna. You're usually faster than that. I didn't think my shield would connect."

"Perhaps in my old age I'm slowing down," she jested between ragged breaths. Her whole side was going to be a giant bruise if the pain was any indication.

Teagan snorted. " _Old age_. I wonder what that makes me?"

"Positively vintage, Teagan darling and I wouldn't have it any other way," Jenna said, smiling as she opened her eyes.

"Vintage is just a way of making it sound like old things are worth some coin," He said, making a face at her. He pulled her to her feet, taking most of her weight as he helped her from the practice yard. Pain was making her dizzy, but it she wasn't getting worse. That was important, otherwise she'd need to be carried. Her equilibrium was returning to her, but it hadn't fully reasserted itself yet.

"Practice is over," Teagan declared. "I'll get you a bath once we're back inside." Jenna accepted the offer without any protest and let him lead her towards the door back to their manor house.

She'd been practicing more than usual after their most recent trip to Highever when she'd been winded chasing her nephew Oren around and trounced by Fergus, who'd found strength enough to pummel her each and every time that they sparred. All of that was nothing compared to when she tried to get up to her old tricks with Ser Gilmore and the rest of her father's knights. Her lack of practice had been evident, and though she bested a good number of people, she no longer had the speed she'd once enjoyed.

Since then, she and Teagan had changed their practice routine and both of them were feeling the effects. Despite the defeats in Highever, she was still handy with her daggers and bow, at least enough to keep up when they went hunting. Thrice yearly outings with her husband and hound into the forest did not make up for a lack of practice, or so she found out the hard way. Relying just on hunts with Teagan had left her soft and unused to fighting with others.

Teagan, of course, went out more often than she did, but only because she'd taken over much of his administration. She had a head for numbers, and her father had both her and Fergus schooled for the possibility of such leadership. Tending to the people of Rainesfere, in all the ways she could took up much of her time these days.

There was little enough time in the days, let alone for weaponry practice, but Jenna insisted that they both needed it. Training with the guards of Rainesfere was nothing like training with the militia of Highever and the Cousland castle guards. They were a small bunch of volunteers, but Jenna found that they were scrappy and inventive. Of course, they were all hesitant to injure the Lady Jenna. Her husband had no such qualms, which was probably why she'd be wearing his bruise for a week or so.

It had been a long time since she'd left Highever - so long that she no longer thought of it as home, but rather as her family's home. After that first tumultuous year, she'd settled in rather nicely.

There was plenty to do to ensure the livelihoods of the people in her bannorn, but not so much as Highever, not what she'd been groomed for. The size proved a blessing in disguise, because she spent the time getting to know the area. She walked the land with her dog at her side, talking to the people, spending time with Teagan and sometimes at Castle Redcliffe. Rainesfere was no teyrnir, but she had never been hungry for the sort of power her father had. She preferred this quieter life in the south.

In the intervening years an uneasy truce had come between her and Eamon, though Jenna still bristled under his gaze from time to time. She truly doubted that he liked her, but rather tolerated her better after all the experience. It was at least a compromise. She felt much the same about him, though her love for Isolde and Connor had grown exponentially. At best Jenna could say that she was patient with Eamon, and even that came about because she felt badly about Teagan constantly being pulled between the two of them.

Despite what the servants and half the people of Rainesfere had counted on, there was no child for Teagan and Jenna. It wasn't something they discussed most of the time, but they'd wanted to wait, and it never seemed like the right time. Jenna kept drinking the contraceptive tea she'd always made and Teagan breathed a sigh of relief. Not that they didn't want children, but neither felt like it was the right time for them yet.

Even though they were fine with the decision for the time being, Eamon had plenty to say about it; as did a few others. This was one of the few areas where the two brothers argued - and more oft than not fought fiercely about it. Teagan allowed no one, not even Eamon, to make comments to them about having children. Eamon felt as if it were his right to do so, having sired his own heir. Jenna gently put a stop to the questions with her own family, telling them simply that they'd be the first to know when it happened, if it ever did. For the time being however, it wasn't on the agenda. The Couslands were accepting if not content with that, though Fergus did subject Teagan to ribald teasing whenever he had the chance.

"My lady!" A maid gasped at the sight of her as Teagan bore her into the house. Without hesitation the maid summoned another and they steadied Jenna between them, though she was capable of making to her bedroom under her own power. Just as she was going to object, someone else spoke up - their seneschal.

"Bann Teagan, there's a man who insists upon talking to you. One of the outlying farmers, you see. Said it was urgent."

He nodded at the seneschal and gave Jenna a questioning look. She nodded her head at him.

"Go on and talk to the farmer. I will be fine," Jenna said, though she was still firmly propped between the two maids and glad for the support.

Teagan pressed a light kiss to her forehead, told the maids to help her into the bath and disappeared to find this farmer. Jenna let herself be lead into her bedroom where her armor was stripped and the bathtub was filled with hot, steaming water and eucalyptus bath salts. She wasn't in the hot water for long before Teagan came back to the room. He was still in his practice armor, and he took it off carefully as she watched.

"You look grim, Teagan."

He didn't answer for some time, waiting until he was stripped down completely. There was a second of hesitation before he joined her in the water. Jenna let him sink into her embrace.

"Better?" she asked.

"Much. I'm so sorry for hurting you earlier," Teagan said, apologizing again.

"It's already improving. Tell me what's got you looking so unhappy. It can't just be my training injury."

"There's been more darkspawn activity lately. The patrols are saying the roads aren't safe. The surface hasn't seen such activity for years, and it seems like they're organized."

Jenna sat upright, bolted to attention, water sloshed violently around her and Teagan and he turned slightly to shoot an askance look at her. There had been more and more reports of darkspawn lately, and they were getting closer to Rainesfere. Under the water, her hand was clenched into a fist.

"Do you think we're going to have a Blight?" Her question came out as a whisper, betraying her fearfulness.

Teagan shook his head, "We can't be sure yet. There are some signs of it, but this could also be a large raid. It's like that sometimes. When Eamon first inherited the arling, there were more than a few raids by the darkspawn and the Orlesians."

When she didn't visibly calm, her took her hand under the water, easing it from the fist until her fingers laced with his. "Jenna, please. It will take time to figure out if this is anything at all."

"There have been noises among the farmers, sheep going missing, crops destroyed, that sort of thing. This isn't needless worry. My father taught me the emergency procedures for Blights, but I never thought I would have to use them," Jenna said, talking more to herself than Teagan.

"Emergency procedures?"

She looked up at him and now her own grim look matched his. "Yes, how to store in multiple places so that if one reserve of food is burned down, the teyrnir won't starve. Sure they make sense in any siege, but my father was adamant that running was the last thing we do. We stay, we protect, we fight, and we have to be responsible for the logistics of as much land as we could."

Teagan looked mildly impressed. "Your father thought far ahead."

"He does." She gave a sheepish laugh, "as I suppose I do."

"I will take this to Eamon the next time I visit, as our Arl, the decision of how to prepare is his. He may well have more information than we do at this point."

Teagan sat back in the water, leaning on an edge of the bath with his eyes closed. Jenna was too jumpy to relax now, head too filled with thoughts that made her uneasy. She stood, and Teagan opened one eye to look up at her.

"Finished already?" he asked.

"I think so."

He squinted up at her face, then looked down at her side. "You're bruising. Sit back in the water and let the heat take some of the pain, otherwise you'll be awake tonight pretending nothing is the matter."

Jenna laughed despite her worry and sank back into the water. Teagan was correct, her side was turning a dark purple, the large bruise from his shield already making her ache. Though when she sat back into the water her face still was pinched with worry, she playfully splashed water at her husband.

"I hold you responsible for this," she said, indicating her left side.

He grinned back at her, "I will tend to it when we get out, and even deliver a dinner in bed for my lady."

Jenna closed her eyes and smiled, "yes, that's a good start."

 

A few days later, Teagan was in Redcliffe, at the castle with his brother. Isolde and Connor were both around, but aside from a short greeting Teagan hadn't seen them. They were ensconced in Eamon's study, as per usual, but this time neither Teagan nor his brother were in good spirits. Teagan held a letter that had been sent to Eamon from their nephew Cailan.

It was a short letter, with devoid of all of the usual pleasantries. It simply said "Alistair has been recruited by the Commander of the Grey."

"How does he know this?" Teagan asked. He was sure that Cailan kept an eye on Alistair, but this information could be false.

"The Revered Mother herself wrote to Cailan after it happened," Eamon answered. "She was in quite a huff, wondering if the king would allow more of her templars to be conscripted out from under her. But I don't think it was losing a templar that truly bothered her, rather just not wanting to give anything to the Wardens."

"Jenna and I have been hearing about more darkspawn sightings recently. Perhaps this truly is the beginning of a Blight if the Grey Wardens are conscripting," Teagan said.

"Teagan, that is not the point. You need to take matters of succession seriously. I cannot understand why neither you nor Cailan have heirs yet, or at least named an interim successor, should something happen. Adopt a child if Jenna cannot or will not have one. Think of Ferelden, brother," Eamon beseeched.

"Do not start this again, I beg you. Especially not if there is a Blight on the horizon. I will not put a child in danger - any child, whether born of my wife or not - just to satisfy the demands of succession. We need to focus on whether this truly could be the start of a new Blight. Just the thought of it has Jenna worried and talking about emergency precautions."

Teagan moved towards the fireplace, and the fire burning low within it. He felt no warmth as he ran a hand through his hair. Absently he began talking just to fill the silence.

"Alistair hadn't taken vows, had he?"

Eamon cleared his throat before speaking, "no, I don't think so. There was no letter saying that he had, but I don't know if he would have written to me. I haven't seen him in some time. You know he was angry at me when I tried to see him, and then time slipped away without any chance to visit. There was Connor, then you and Jenna, and," Eamon sighed, letting the thought go.

"I understand," Teagan said.

He too had not taken the time to see Alistair, though he'd been across Ferelden more than a few times since the boy had gone to the Chantry. Come to think on it, Teagan couldn't rightly remember if Alistair was still at the Chantry in Bournshire, where they'd taken him just after he'd left Redcliffe.

"What shall we do?" Teagan asked.

"About Alistair? Nothing. It seems the Maker has a different path intended for the boy," Eamon said.

"And the darkspawn?"

"We must consult our king on that. Perhaps the Grey Wardens have already spoken to him. They say they keep watch, so they would be the first to know."

"As you say, brother," Teagan said. He hadn't planned on another trip to Denerim this year, but it might be demanded of him. Jenna would be unhappy, he knew, but better prepared and unhappy than in the dark and caught unawares.


	24. Chapter 24

They went to Denerim, though neither Teagan nor Jenna very much felt like leaving Rainesfere. Eamon thankfully didn't go with them, though he had plenty of instructions for Teagan to execute in his absence. Before they'd left Isolde was solemn, withdrawn and not given to talking even when Jenna tried to draw her out. The most she could figure out was that something was wrong with Connor, though the child seemed fine to Jenna's eyes. It was probably nothing. Isolde was prone to worry, though not unduly, just quite a bit over things she could neither fix or understand. Neither of them seemed to even want to go to Denerim, and Jenna couldn't blame them.

The journey to the capital was uncomfortable for all of its brevity. They had been wary on the road, not sleeping very much and talking only a little. The weather favored their speed, though there was a rainstorm and the subsequent mud to work through just outside Denerim. The only saving grace for Jenna was that her family had also been summoned to the capital. While Fergus was minding Highever, Oriana and Oren had opted to join Bryce and Eleanor on their trip. Oriana had written to her, encouraging her to come. It had been that letter that made her join Teagan, though her husband had voiced his desire for her to be there as well.

She was too tired from the journey to go to see her family upon their first arrival in the city, though she did send word around to them and got a response. Even Denerim seemed out of sorts. To her eyes it seemed too subdued and ominously quiet, the city was always vibrant and lively, unless it had reason not to be. Neither she nor Teagan could understand why the mood had shifted, but it seemed an ominous portent for their trip. When Jenna retired that night it was early and she stayed curled in Teagan's bed next to him rather than adjourn to her own quarters. This whole trip had unsettled her from the moment they'd set out, but damned if she could place why.

#

"The Grey Wardens of Ferelden are saying that this is the beginning of a Blight," Cailan said. His words shocked everyone at the table. There were audible gasps, but he held up a hand to silence them.

Not all of the nobility was assembled, just the few he'd summoned on short notice. Eamon was notable for his absence, but Teagan stood in his stead with Jenna beside him. Bryce Cousland came, though Eleanor was not at his side; Arl Howe was. Howe was looking as obsequious as ever, hanging on Bryce's side as if it would pain him to let go. Alfstanna was there, but few other banns. Arl Urien sat with them, looking smugly bored with the whole situation. They were joined by Loghain, who barely restrained his scoff at the mention of the Blight, Teagan noted. Loghain didn't agree, but Teagan was far more inclined to trust the Grey Wardens about such matters.

"I am inclined to agree with that there is something amiss. I've been receiving more reports of darkspawn sightings from all over, and Orzammar says that their Deep Roads are quieting," Cailan continued. The last remark brought forth the murmurs from the assembled, because even to doubters, it was a sign that couldn't be denied.

"Whatever the case may be, it is time to shore up our protection. I need you to go back to your lands and make them safe. It is time now to plan for what's on the horizon, whether is be a Blight or increased attacks."

"But, Your Highness, how should we do that? The threat of Blight is not a trifling one, nor one we've had to deal with in ages." Alfstanna voiced the question that had arisen in his mind as well. Teagan had some ideas, but no real plan of what to do for his people.

"The beasts are coming from the south, and are already spreading. Look for signs of darkspawn and keep the curious away from the bodies if they are slain. Protect your outlying farms and holds. Call for vigilance among your people and overstock for the winter," Cailan said. He spoke with a gravitas that was rare for him, and it had the attention of everyone in the room.

"I cannot say more than that at this time, but we should be ready to fight these monsters if the Wardens call on us."

Cailan stood at the head of the table with his chest puffed out. Maker help him, Teagan sensed some excitement in from the young king. It wasn't his first challenge as a monarch, but if it was a true Blight it would be the largest. Cailan was still so young, the thought didn't strike terror into him as it should, but planted the hope for glory in his mind. Teagan stole a glance at Jenna, worried for just a second that she might be just as entranced by the hope for battle, but she was not so foolish, though she was even younger than Cailan. Instead of reflecting his nephew's misplaced excitement she was impassive, watching the faces around the room. Teagan followed her gaze to Loghain, who was wearing his skepticism for all the world to see. There was something else beneath his disbelief, and it was harder edged. Distrust was there, but was it for Cailan or the Wardens? Probably both, Teagan decided.

Cailan finished the meeting quickly after that, asking Teagan to stay while the others left. Jenna left with Bryce, the two of them with their heads together, speaking in low voices. Bryce had worn much the same look as his daughter, giving away little as he'd taken in the news. Teagan bade them both farewell with a promise to go to the Cousland estate to join them for dinner.

"Ah, Uncle Teagan. Your wife is her father's daughter, as ever," Cailan said, once they'd adjourned to his private study.

"What do you mean, Your Highness?" Teagan asked.

"I could practically hear her mind working after that announcement, but she showed nothing of it on her face, like a true Cousland. She and Bryce were almost twins in that moment. I must say, she suits you more now than she did at our last meeting. Anora thought it wouldn't be so, that you and she would have worn on each other by now or grown apart. I'm glad she was wrong about that," Cailan said in his laughing, playful way. He meant no offense, but Teagan registered the remark anyway, intending to find a way to rebuke Anora for it in the future.

Teagan was handed a glass of dark, clear amber whiskey whilst Cailan spoke and took it gratefully while absorbed all that Cailan had just said. He drank in the smoky, complex flavor and let it burn in his chest while he thought of an answer.

"Lady Jenna is most like her father, I think, more than she is of her mother. But she and I always suited, even when we hardly knew each other. If you recall, that was the reason we got married, because her father was incensed at how well we got on in all respects." Teagan recalled the memories without a blush, though they still stirred feeling within him. There was some part of him that still chided himself for his indiscretion, but none of him regretted his life since he'd met Jenna.

Cailan laughed, as he was meant to, and then took a drink from his own glass. "She is radiant. Her happiness shows through. Are you just as happy?"

"More, if that is possible," Teagan answered. Cailan nodded but said nothing more for some time, letting the quiet pool between them. Teagan's mind wandered as it ever did to Jenna, wondering when that evening he'd be able to get her alone. Probably not until late, if at all. Cailan was caught up in his own thoughts, and spoke again after some time.

"Anora spends too much time in seclusion with her father and that damned Orlesian elf of hers these days. I am jealous of your Lady Jenna and how she stays at your side, of the harmony the two of you project. Bryce hid her well, otherwise she might have wound up married to someone who didn't suit her as you do," Cailan said. Teagan could think of nothing to say, so he took another drink, letting the comments go by. Cailan changed the subject after a pause, asking Teagan, "so, do you think this is truly a Blight?"

"What have the Wardens to say about it?"

"They've asked if they can still use their Right of Conscription here in Ferelden and I reaffirmed it. They are desperate for more numbers, but won't take just anyone. The Commander, Duncan, seems sure that this is the start of new Blight."

"Then we should take them at their word. They stand watch and would know before any others," Teagan said.

It was what he'd always been told, and he believed it. His sister Rowan, Cailan's mother, had spent time down in the Deep Roads, and fought darkspawn. They suspected that their taint had killed her, though it was years later. He was rightly frightened of what a Blight might mean for their country, especially with few Wardens to call upon.

"I thought so too. And I am not such a fool as Loghain makes me out to be, this isn't a Blight for my vanity. I have been listening, keeping my own notes. Anora agrees with me. There are more darkspawn about and less underground. The Wardens aren't the only ones that are worried." He sighed heavily and drained his glass before going on. "Teagan, despite all that my father did, that I continue to do, we never have regained our strength in the years after the occupation. A Blight could wipe out all of that progress and set us back even further than before. Ferelden would not recover, so I shall listen to the Wardens and do whatever they say. I cannot take the chance of what might happen otherwise."

Teagan finished the last drops of his own drink and then poured more for both of them. "You know," he began cautiously, "now that Alistair has joined the Wardens and it is more likely the two of you will cross paths, especially if it truly is a Blight."

"Yes, I had considered that. His life is his own, at least in this. I have no wish to interfere, but I will take his help and that of his order. How did Eamon take the news of his conscription?"

"Well enough, I suppose. He was worried, but it is out of our hands. Alistair is a man grown now." Teagan said the words but could hardly believe it. The last time he'd seen Alistair he'd been a gangly youth covered in mud, but if he counted the years right, that had been over a decade past.

"I wish I knew him, but I know that isn't appropriate," Cailan said, surprising Teagan. He was sincere, his tone almost wistful as he spoke again. "He's my brother, but I know only little of him, nothing of his character or things I might see for myself. Perhaps when this threat is over, I will have a chance to invite the Grey Wardens for a celebration and then we might..." Cailan trailed off and let the silence stretch out between them while they drank. "Nevermind," he finished. "It was a foolish thought."

"Not at all. Time will tell on all accounts, Your Highness," Teagan said.

"As you say, Uncle." Cailan looked downcast for a while, staring at the fire. He didn't turn to look at Teagan when he asked, "do you know who his mother is?"

"I have my suspicions, but they were never confirmed. The common fiction that she was a serving girl in Castle Redcliffe was concocted by Eamon. That elven woman was pregnant by one of the guards, it was just convenient timing." Teagan had no idea why he was being so honest, but he blamed it on the glass in his hand that was already in need of a refilling.

"Whom do you suspect?"

"I have always though it was a mage. Your father was at the Circle around that time, and quite lonely after the death of your mother. If his mother were a mage, it would make sense as to why she couldn't keep him," Teagan said. He'd never spoken of his suspicions to anyone, not even Eamon. He'd cobbled together the theory after years or hearing all the tidbits and pieces about Alistair.

Cailan was nodding as he took in the thought. The firelight caught his hair, making the already blonde strands blaze a deep, burnished gold color. His glass too was empty, and Teagan made to fill both again, emptying the bottle. The warmth of it was spreading through him now, and Teagan sat back into the chair with a mind to nurse this next glass.

"Children, bastards, and a brother I'll never know." Cailan gave him a lopsided grin that was tinged with sorrow. "What a mess. Anora and I have a schedule, you know. I have set nights when I am allowed her bedchamber and I am not allowed to 'waste my energies' in the times between. It almost makes me wish I had a bastard or two before we married when I was busy spilling 'my energies' onto the breasts of maids instead of inside of them."

Teagan gave a grim laugh, and then said softly, "you don't wish that, Your Highness. Children, even illegitimate ones, still cause worry and pain." He was thinking of Alistair, and how both Eamon and Maric had wanted to do more than was proper for him. The urge had bitten him too, come to think on it, but Teagan had been a young man of little means then and no political influence to rival that of his brother.

"Do you want children, Uncle?"

"Yes. Jenna does too. More now, I think, than before, though we had always planned on it, just not immediately. She talks of her nephew constantly these days. I see her eyes soften when she works with the children in Rainesfere, and in the winter she stopped taking the witherstalk mixture. We are trying, but haven't had success so far. It is me, I think. I am too old for her," Teagan admitted, looking down into his drink.

"Nonsense. She is young and healthy, and you are full of vitality. She will be fat with your babe before too long. It will just take time. Just pray it doesn't get to the point where your wife is making charts of her courses and planning your interludes by the phases of the moons."

Cailan's morose face made Teagan laugh, but he leaned over and patted his nephew sympathetically on the shoulder. "I should not drink so much, especially not when I have to face all of the Couslands tonight."

"Then let us smoke some of Antiva's finest cigars and I will send you back to your wife in a complete state. You won't remember dinner and you will sleep like a baby," Cailan said, grinning as he got up, returning with the cigars. Much like the whiskey they'd drank, the cigars were far too fine for Teagan to pass up.

#

"Lady Jenna," a maid whispered urgently into her ear. "Bann Teagan's just arrived, but I thought you might want to see him before dinner."

Jenna had been out with Oren and her dog Horatio, for most of the day since they'd left the meeting with Cailan. They'd been playing in the gardens -- hide and seek, tag, and several made up games where she and Oren changed the rules as they went along. Oriana had joined them for some, once she'd come in from shopping with Eleanor. Eleanor had disappeared into the estate, presumably searching for Bryce to learn the news of the meeting with the King. She suspected that she'd taken Oriana out purposely, that this trip away from Fergus was partially to cheer her up. They might have needed some time away from each other, but not known how to say it. Powerful emotions could overwhelm the senses of the most even-keeled. Over the winter, Oriana had been increasing with another child, but had lost it just as quickly. Both she and Fergus were devastated.

Bryce had been subdued as well after the meeting, though she could tell he was glad to see her. Her father had walked with her back to the Cousland estate in Denerim, and then she'd spent some much needed time with her family. They had last seen each other last year just before Jenna and Teagan had taken ship to go to Ansburg to see his family in the Free Marches. Before they'd married, Teagan used to make yearly visits to his mother's family there. They'd been twice in the past three years, hardly enough for Teagan's liking but he was also loathe to be parted from her for long enough to make the trip on his own.

"Oren. It's time to go inside, love. You should get cleaned up for dinner," Jenna said, ruffling her nephew's hair as she spoke. "Go see your mother."

"Yes, Auntie. Will you be there for dinner too?" he asked.

"Of course. I promised, didn't I?" Jenna answered.

She gave him a smile and a pat, and he gave her a grimy hug in return. Jenna hugged his small body to hers, feeling the rapid beat of his heart, the smell of dirt and dog on his skin. How she loved Oren! It was high time she gave him a cousin to play with, but she pushed that thought aside before the wistfulness had time to set in. She watched him walk off with another maid out of the garden. She waited until he was inside and then turned back to the maid that came to get her.

"I've put him in the kitchen," the maid said as she lead Jenna back into the estate.

When she got there, Teagan was leaning over a bowl of soup and a piece of bread amidst the hurricane of dinner preparations. Servants were moving around everywhere, the smell of long cooked meat and simmering soup scented the air. The large kitchen felt about ten times warmer than the outdoors she'd just left, and it had been a warm, clear night.

The cook was bustling around, but keeping watch on him out of the corner of her eye. "Wanted to get some food in him, my lady. He looked like he needed it." She spoke swiftly to Jenna as she walked by, leaving no chance for her to respond.

"Teagan?"

He looked up at the sound of his name, giving Jenna an almost deceiving grin. It was a little too wide and bright to be normal, and she guessed that he was a little drunk. Her guess was confirmed when she slid onto the bench next to him and the smell of cigars and drink hit her at once.

"I changed my clothes," he said, leaning into her. "But I wasn't sure I'd have time to wash my hair before dinner."

"And you and King Cailan got incredibly drunk to celebrate the afternoon?"

"It was an accident. We were speaking of things too heavy to be endured on their own," he said. There was only a slight slur to his words, though he was moving slowly. He was careful with the soup and bread, chewing deliberately. Jenna was annoyed that he was drunk but she realized that it was mostly because he hadn't eaten anything all afternoon, as the cook had rightly recognized.

He must have sensed her frustration, because Teagan looped an arm around her. "Fear not, dear wife. I will not ruin your evening with your family. Let me finish this and I will feel better. No one will be the wiser. Cook tells me that the full meal is about an hour away, and I will be fine by then."

Despite her annoyance, she cuddled into the crook of his free arm. Teagan ate faster, finishing the bowl of potato soup within a few minutes. She thanked the cook for her forbearance, got her husband up and out of the kitchen and then went to look for her father.

Teagan was mostly steady on his feet, but she still took his hand as she lead him through the corridors. He only stopped to kiss her once, surprising both her and the guard on duty down the hallway, but Jenna didn't mind. Teagan tasted of potatoes and smoke, but his touch was electric, sparking lightning over her skin. Were they not expected for supper shortly and she so filthy from the outdoors, she might have detoured on their way to the study, but she didn't want to chance it. Both Bryce and Eleanor were in the study when they entered, speaking in low, worried voices. They brightened when they saw Jenna and Teagan in the doorway.

"Teagan, you've made it. I thought King Cailan was going to keep you all evening. Howe's coming for dinner as well. You should get dressed, shouldn't you, pup?" her father said, directing the last part at her. Jenna nodded.

"I was just about to go on when I received word that Teagan had arrived. I sent Oren in, but I should see to Horatio. Teagan, Mother, Father," she said as a goodbye to each of them. As she left, she heard her father speaking once more.

"King Cailan sent over some Antivan cigars and brandy. I was thinking of sampling the spread after supper. Care to join me, Teagan?"

"Of course, my lord."

Jenna almost groaned aloud, but she was grinning. Denerim wasn't turning out to be as awful as she'd feared upon their arrival. Perhaps this small, short time would be something she could enjoy before they had to go back to these new worries of Blight and darkspawn. Her pace quickened as she got closer to the kennels. She'd see to her dog, and get cleaned and dressed for dinner quickly. She wanted to spend as much time with her family as possible. There was no telling when she'd see them again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometime in the future I'm going to break the side chapters out of this story and make them into separate works. If the number of chapters suddenly changes on you, that's why. I'd like to create a series for Jenna and Teagan's universe, if you've got story prompts, questions or backstory requests let me know. Please! Leave me a comment and let me know what you'd like to see and how you felt about this chapter, <3


	25. Chapter 25

" _Teagan, I hope this letter reaches you before depart Denerim. There has been a darkspawn raid on your lands, but the soldiers and family were able to defeat the monsters. I rode out to see them and offered my condolences as their arl and in your stead._ " -- From an urgently rushed letter to Bann Teagan in Denerim from his brother, Arl Eamon

Once they were back, a great many things happened quickly. King Cailan's fears of a Blight seemed almost confirmed by the increase in attacks and sightings of the monsters, and the Grey Wardens showed up in Redcliffe, recruiting. According to Eamon they had also been in Highever, Denerim and Orzammar as of late. They were certainly taking the threat seriously, even if Eamon still had his doubts.

While they were in Denerim, there was a darkspawn raid near Rainesfere. Eamon handled it, because Rainesfere was in his arling, his brother was his vassal, but Teagan felt as though he'd neglected his duties. His people needed either him or Jenna, and they had both been absent. It wasn't going to happen that way again.

He and Jenna called upon the farmhold that was attacked, but there was little do but offer comfort and condolences. The animals they'd lost were compensated for already by Eamon, and the wife that was hurt showed no signs of the taint. Just poison from darkspawn weapons. It was then that Teagan decided not to hide the truth from her any longer, because it was a real possibility that she might meet Alistair in the future, and he wanted her to know. He brought up the subject that evening, after dinner. They had gone for their nightly walk with the dog, and he broached the topic once they were back in their room for the night.

"Jenna, I must tell you of something but I share it in the utmost confidence," Teagan began.

"Of course, darling. I will keep any secret you wish me to," she said. He knew that she was to be trusted, but still he was hesitant to share this one with her. It wasn't his secret to tell, not truly, but Maric was no longer here to do the telling for himself.

Secrets were a way of life, and she had learned how to keep them from a young age. He had as well. There were things he knew about his family that he would keep until his dying day, as well as secrets he kept for Ferelden. Jenna must do the same for her family, for secrets went hand in hand with power and Bryce Cousland, for all of his stern cheerfulness, had plenty of power.

"There is a Grey Warden named Alistair, a very young man. He may come to Redcliffe with the Wardens in the future, especially if there is really a Blight forming in the south. You may meet him," Teagan said, slowly working up to his point. Jenna didn't speak, but allowed him to gather his words in silence.

"He is the son of Maric, Cailan's younger brother by a different mother. I know not who she was, though I have long suspected that she might have been a mage of the tower. Maric gave him to Eamon to raise, and he was sent to the Chantry when he was old enough."

"Maric had another son?" Jenna asked, but it wasn't the kind of question that required an answer. She gave a low whistle. "Well, all right then. I thought you were going to tell me about something far more mundane, like what your signet ring unlocks and why I've never gotten one."

The dig made Teagan laugh sheepishly. "Yes, well the truth is you have one, but it's the pendant I gave you for our second anniversary. The one you hate but pretend not to. It's heavy because it opens the secret passage from Redcliffe's windmill into the castle."

Jenna laughed too, realization bringing a deep rose blush to her copper cheeks. "I hadn't realized. How did you know I disliked it?"

"You only wear it when we go to see Eamon, as if to remind him that you're family," Teagan said.

"So I do," she admitted. "Tell me about this other son of Maric's, Alistair, is it?"

"Yes, that's his name. I only knew him as a child. Eamon raised him until he married Isolde, and then Alistair was given to the Chantry. He was recruited into the Grey Wardens not long ago. Cailan and I spoke about it in Denerim."

"Ah, so that was why you showed up to my parents full of liquor and regrets."

"Among other reasons," Teagan admitted. "But I thought you should know before you ran into him. I'm told he looks like Maric, though not as fair." He'd found that out from Eamon upon their return. He'd taken it upon himself to write to the Revered Mother and ask her about Alistair, since he wasn't sure how to reach a Grey Warden. "It's been a great many years since I've seen him. I only remember him as a boy, to be honest."

"I thought Maric was the most handsome man in the world when I was about eight. He came to Highever, and I fell in love with him. Cailan is only a little older than I, but he hadn't accompanied his father. Maric doted on me the whole time he was there, and I remember making him more than a few drawings. I wonder whatever happened to them."

"Knowing Maric, he probably had them in a trunk somewhere until he died. He always hoarded once he had a place to keep things again. I think it was because of his childhood spent on the run," Teagan said. "In any case, I just wanted you to know about Alistair, in case you run into him."

"I am shocked he had another son and managed to keep it quiet," Jenna said. "It must be one of the best kept secrets in Ferelden."

"Indeed," Teagan agreed. "That is probably Loghain's doing. It was his idea to give Alistair to Eamon, probably to fuel rumors that Alistair was Eamon's son, though at the time he claimed he was doing it out of respect to my sister's memory. Keeping Alistair at the castle without wedding his mother would cause outrage that Maric could ill-afford."

"You hardly ever speak of your sister. What was she like?" Jenna asked. Teagan could hardly fault her, but he never knew what to say when anyone asked him of Rowan.

"She was distant, more like an abstract, at least to me. I never knew her as a child, she was several years Eamon's elder, and much older than I. We weren't children together, not in the way that I was with Eamon. She stayed in Ferelden with our father during the rebellion, and mother took Eamon and I to the Free Marches. I knew little of her until she became queen and I'd come back to Ferelden. Then she was more my queen than my sister, though I loved her dearly."

"I have no memories of her or my mother from my early life. What I know of my mother was from stories told by my aunt Thalia. When I see you with Oren, it reminds me of my Thalia was with me," he told her with a smile.

"Teagan," Jenna held out her hand to him, and he took it in his and then brought it to his lips to kiss her knuckles.

"War in Ferelden has taken much from me, and I pray that we won't see it again. I fear the darkspawn, Jenna. I fear that I won't be able to keep you or my people safe, and that they will overwhelm all that I've worked for. I was eighteen when Eamon sent for me and made me a bann. This is my whole life's work."

"Do you miss Ansburg?" Jenna asked, pulling Teagan closer to her. He settled his head against her breasts, letting her stroke his hair and undo his braid. When they called for the bathwater, she would wash his hair, and he hers.

"It was all I knew as a child, so yes, I do miss it. Ferelden is home because I have made it so, because the Guerrins have bled for it, because I have a right to it. But I feel as though I could never have enough time in the Free Marches, away from it all," he admitted. He could only say so because he wasn't looking at her, didn't have to see her reaction as he brought forth his shameful truth. Teagan loved Ferelden, truly, but his heart was where he'd been happiest in his life, and most of those moments had lived across the Waking Sea.

"Then we will go back, as soon as we can. There was something you wanted to show me, a tournament," she said, grasping for the name. He smiled at her attempt, though she couldn't see his face.

"The Grand Tourney. I'm afraid we'll miss it this year. I keep meaning to go back, but there is forever a crisis demanding our attention."

"Let us call for the bath now, before it gets too late," Jenna said. There was something ameliorating in her tone, and Teagan knew that she meant to do this to care for him, to lessen the burdens of a day fraught with painful work and an evening of confession.

He let her take care of him that night, because she was his wife. While her gentle hands could not ease away the whole pain that was in his heart, the loss of much of his family and the early mantle of responsibility, Jenna offered what comfort he could, and Teagan slept easier in her arms.

#

"My lady! Lady Jenna!" A voice called to Jenna from across the Chantry, shattering the solemnity of the darkened building. The call came from a short, stout woman with an impressive bosom and short brown hair that curled in every direction. She waved at Jenna to get her attention.

As the woman rushed over to her, a sister glared her disapproval but the distracted woman took no notice. All of her energy was focused on Jenna. "My lady," she huffed, her words coming out on soft pants of breath. "So sorry to flag you down like this, but I wanted to tell you of my husband. He's a surface dwarf, a trader. He's got an ear to the ground, in good with lots of the right families. Many of the smith caste down there are making weapons and armor for Orlais," she said.

She didn't know this woman by sight, had no idea who she was. Jenna held up a hand to halt the rapid torrent of information, and then took the woman to a more secluded alcove. She made her voice as soothing as possible as she spoke to the agitated woman. "Tell me your name, mistress."

"Oh, I'm just Louisa, my lady. My husband is Sigmund of the caravans. He goes mostly between here, Jader and Orzammar throughout the year. He's been hearing a lot of chatter, you see."

"Mistress Louisa, go on, tell me what you've heard?"

"Yes, my lady. Well, you see, it's like this. They're preparing for war as sure as you can, because this isn't the normal stuff, the fancy armor stamped with the houses or the decorative blades. These are just as many all purpose good pieces of dwarven steel as they can crank out as fast as possible. Smiths on the surface are also full up with orders." She pushed an errant strand of unruly brown hair from her face and looked up at Jenna expectantly.

"That's definitely something," Jenna agreed.

"What's more they're saying it's because of the Grey Wardens of Orlais, but that would mean a Blight, wouldn't it? There have been more darkspawn on the road, but I was thinkin', didn't them Grey Wardens try to take the throne once? They're Orlesian. Could be part of a new invasion," Louisa said, her face turning redder as she gained momentum.

"Mistress, there could be value to this information but that's a long way to jump. There are many explanations for it, especially if some noble over there is planning a coup. Anyone can utter a name." Louisa's face fell and Jenna softened, not wanting to waste a potential source. "But it is good to know, and you have my thanks." Jenna reached into her purse and pulled out a silver. "And you should keep your information to yourself for now, unless you find out something new. Do you get to Rainesfere often?"

"My Sigmund passes through on his way west. Could send you a note if he learns anything more," Louisa said, avarice making her eyes sparkle.

"Please do. I'll be sure to thank you for anything useful the next time he passes through." Jenna said goodbye and moved away from Louisa, finishing her prayers and leaving.

Louisa seemed excitable, but honest. Money might change that, and Jenna wondered if she'd done the right thing by offering her coin. She had no way to verify what she'd been told, but that didn't mean it wasn't true. Grey Wardens commissioning more swords and fast was more likely the sign of the Blight and not one of an impending resumption of the occupation. Still, she wanted to share what she'd found out with Teagan and see what he made of it. He hadn't come with her in the village, instead staying with Eamon and walking around the gardens as they talked business.

When she found Teagan, he was in the courtyard sparring with Eamon. They were almost evenly matched for strength, but Teagan had speed and skill that put his brother at a disadvantage. Their shields clanged loudly, dull, reverberating tones that Jenna felt as much as she heard. They came to a halt after about ten more minutes of fighting each other to a standstill. She was certain Teagan was holding back, but he also did when he trained with her. Teagan took off his helm, sweaty hair plastered to his head. He grinned at her when she waved from her perch nearby.

"My shoulder must have gotten jostled," Teagan said, handing off his practice weapons to a waiting squire. He rotated his arm slowly, moving the joint gingerly. She saw him wince as he lowered his arm.

"Were my blows too powerful?" Eamon asked, just barely grinning. Sweat ran in rivulets down his face, into his beard.

"Hardly. Probably swung too hard on you. In any case, do you have a salve? I'd like to be able to use my arm in the morning."

"Probably. Jenna, ask Isolde or one of the maids," Eamon said, ordering her without even looking at her. Her old petulance surfaced at the casual dismissal, bringing a snarl to her face that she couldn't hold in. It rankled her when she was already agitated and wanted to get Teagan alone. Now she was being sent away.

"Of course, my arl. I live to do as you command," Jenna said in a mock simper, and disappeared before her tongue could get her into more trouble. She didn't turn around to see the look the brothers exchanged, or the frown that Eamon gave her back as she departed.

She did find the warming salve for Teagan and when he came inside, she was waiting in the small bedroom they used for their overnight stays. She hadn't been planning to stay overnight, but apparently Teagan had. He'd packed dinner clothes while she had none. It added another check of annoyance to her already short temper. Her mind was made up to leave after she checked in with Isolde. Her sister in law and son hadn't been around when they came in earlier, before she'd gone to the Chantry and Eamon and Teagan began their sparring match.

Leaving the salve on the bed for him to find, Jenna went through the castle to find Isolde. She was in a room with Connor and one of his tutors.

"Jenna, I'm glad you are here," Isolde said distractedly when she came in. "I thought I might not see you until dinner."

"Aunt Jenna," Connor said, smiling at her for a brief moment. He was leaning over a large workbook, carefully dipping a quill in ink and writing out his letters. She wandered over to him and stood next to him as he worked.

"Good job, Connor. You'll be penning letters for your mother in no time," Jenna said. He did have a good hand, if unpracticed. The letters were straight and neatly made. Connor was a more studious boy than Oren, but Jenna thought that was also because he was a little older.

"I just saw Oren in Denerim," Jenna told him. "His mother and father might come down in the spring. I know you're looking forward to meeting him." She hadn't yet been able to get Fergus to bring his whole family with him, but she'd spoken of Oren so often that Connor was curious to meet this distant relation.

"Was he well?" Connor asked, his attention still focused on his work.

"Yes he was, thank you for asking. I will tell him you asked after him in my next letter. Your manners do you credit, nephew."

Connor preened under the compliment, sitting up straighter and smiling down at his workbook. He didn't take his eyes from his task, impressing her with his concentration. Isolde's conversation finished and Jenna drifted over to her, letting the tutor go back to his lesson with Connor.

"Do you know a woman in Redcliffe named Louisa? Her husband is a trader?" Jenna asked.

"Ye-es. I think so," Isolde said uncertainly, stretching out the first word as she scanned her memory, trying to place the name.

"She's a short human woman with a dwarf for a husband, or so she says. She sought me out today, to give me information her husband picked up on the trading routes. Mostly things about more raids." Jenna carefully left out the part about the Orlesians, not wanting to upset Isolde. She was sure that the woman had heard it all before, but Jenna hated to bring her more pain through callousness or put her on the defensive.

"Probably more people just reacting to the rumors. Eamon thinks Cailan is being a little overly enthusiastic about the prospect of war. Young men eager to prove themselves, honor and glory and all of that, I think."

"So he doesn't think it's a Blight?" Jenna asked. Isolde clicked her tongue in disapproval.

"No. I don't either, but you know I am not very political. It would not be good for Fereldans to think that I am trying to push an agenda, so I leave it to him. Plus, I have no interest and my time is taken up with the castle and Connor and doing works for the Chantry."

Jenna put a hand on Isolde's arm. There were circles under her eyes, and stoop to her shoulders. She was tired, but Jenna couldn't think of what would be causing such exhaustion. Perhaps troubles with Eamon, Maker knows Jenna would likely be the last to know if that were the case.

"Do you need any help?" Jenna asked.

"No, no. I think I need another tutor for Connor is all. It is a trial to find the right people. His interests are growing with age, and I don't want to deny him. He will be arl some day and it is best for him to learn all he can. Maybe he and I will go to Orlais and visit Val Royeaux so he can see the Chantry there. It is good for a young man to travel before he has to settle down."

Isolde was speaking mostly to herself, but Jenna gave her a small squeeze and let go of her. "I should go. I think I will ride back tonight for Rainesfere."

"You aren't staying?" Isolde asked. The sharpness of her tone took Jenna aback. It must have shown on her face because her sister-in-law tempered her reaction, giving Jenna a more questioning look.

"I hadn't planned on it, but I think Teagan did. He failed to mention it to me."

Comprehension dawned on Isolde's tired face and she nodded. "I will miss you at dinner but maybe it is for the best. I should stay with Connor. If you go now, you can beat the sunset."

Jenna hugged both her and Connor in goodbye and went back to the room where she'd left the salve for Teagan. He wasn't there, but the slightly spicy, acrid scent of the salve lingered in the air with the smell of sweat and his dinner clothes were laid out. When she didn't see him in Eamon's study, she left word with one of the servants that she was leaving. Louisa's information burned in her mind, but if she couldn't get Teagan to listen to her here, it would keep until he came home.

The stable master had taken care of her mount and saddled her up at Jenna's request. Teagan was still no where to be found around the castle, so she assumed he was in Redcliffe Village. He'd find out she'd left soon enough, but she still felt slightly guilty about leaving without saying goodbye. Isolde had been correct however, she needed to go before the afternoon was over and she was caught out after the sunset.

Jenna rode off after a brief delay to find a servant to give Teagan the message that she was going off for home. It only tempered her guilt slightly but she didn't want to stay. As her horse built up speed, she could only hear the wind in her ears as she headed home alone.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning for violence, mostly unseen, but Teagan does hunt bandits at the end of the section.

Jenna's early departure soured the rest of Teagan's visit. It upset him that she'd left without finding him, but he understood why. Eamon had no reason to treat her as he had, none at all when there were squires around just for that sort of duty. When Teagan called him on it, Eamon responded that it was her responsibility to take care of him. That argument didn't sit with Teagan, who did not want to treat his wife like the hired help, since that wasn't what she was. His inadvertent mistreatment of her had almost broken apart his marriage in the past. But Eamon was convinced of his rightness and couldn't be swayed.

Later Isolde mentioned that Jenna hadn't realized that they were meant to stay overnight, but Teagan had been sure that she'd brought a pack with her. In any case, he didn't sleep well and woke early, unrested and eager to leave. He had a small meal to break his fast and set off, heading for home. He could have ridden in the dark, but to chase after her would only have incensed Eamon further and put himself in danger. His brother could not be reasonable on the subject of Jenna, and it was wearing Teagan out. Peace was likely not in the future for the two of them, but he hoped for a cessation of hostilities one of these days.

Jenna wasn't at their manor house when he got there. Teagan found her out in a small clearing next to the edge of the forest, sitting atop an old blanket under the shade of ancient willow tree with her dog. The wind stirred her dark hair in wisps, pulling it out of the messy ponytail that held it out of her face. She was throwing a stick for the dog and he was off and running as soon as it coasted away from her. Her throws were lackluster, coming up far shorter than normal, but Horatio didn't seem to mind. He disappeared into the high grass after the stick each time it was thrown, bounding back to Jenna.

"Weren't you doing this exact same thing when we met?" Teagan called out to her as he approached.

Jenna smiled as he drew closer. "Maybe I was."

"Jenna, I am sorry."

"It's all right. I think I got over it sometime last night when I was sleeping by myself, missing your warmth," she admitted with a small, mirthless laugh.

"You missed me?" he teased her by asking, sitting down next to her on the ground. He'd barely been able to sleep without her there by his side. When Horatio returned, he brought the stick to Teagan, who threw it from the dry end back out into the field.

"Oh, that went pretty far. I think he was getting bored with my short throws. Of course I missed you last night. That didn't meant I was going to sit through dinner with Eamon." Jenna sighed heavily, looking out towards the horizon instead of at him. "I suppose I should apologize for leaving without finding you, but I tried and I had to go before it got dark and I'm sorry, Teagan."

He got the feeling she wanted to say more, but she stopped herself. There was something else wrong, he could sense it. It was written in the hunched line of her shoulders, of the sadness of eyes that wouldn't turn to meet his. Jenna looked beaten, defeated and for the life of him, Teagan didn't know how to make her smile anymore. He missed his laughing, lovely wife. She'd been disappearing by inches over the last few months, caught in the cyclical excitement and disappointment about trying to get with child, the darkspawn and possibility of a Blight and the myriad other mundane worries that came with their lives. Teagan took her face in his hands and waited until her dark grey eyes met his.

"Talk to me, Princess Cousland," he said. He was teasing her again with the nickname that she'd gotten from the guards in Highever when she was a girl. She smiled at the small jest, but the grin never made it to her eyes. He released her face with a kiss to the end of her nose, clasping both of hers inside of his as if they were the pearl inside of the clamshell.

"A woman came to me in Redcliffe, and I wanted to talk to you about it, but then I didn't have the chance. There's so much going on. I started thinking about it last night, and if it is the right thing to bring a child into a world that is only destined for more fighting or if my desire to have a child is purely selfish."

"I don't think it's purely selfish, no decision made with love ever is. As to the possibility of war, neither you nor I can predict how the future will go. We can only do our small parts when the time arises," Teagan said, keeping his voice low. 

"I heard of the Grey Wardens of Orlais placing massive orders for weaponry."

"Is this what you heard in Redcliffe Village?" he asked.

"Yes. Do you know if it is true?"

"I think it is, but not the way it was told to you. Cailan is amassing an army with the Grey Wardens of Ferelden at the head. I think there are a great many weapon orders for the Crown, not just the Wardens. It will take time, but they are already coming south to scout the area. If the Wardens of Ferelden are working with the King, it only makes sense that they involves their brethren in Orlais."

Horatio brought back the stick once more but instead of giving it to Teagan or Jenna, trotted past them, back down the path Teagan had taken to the clearing. The dog lay across it, apparently tired of their game. Teagan watched him in silence until Jenna spoke.

"So King Cailan is preparing for war," Jenna said sadly. 

"He is preparing to defend his country the only way he knows how," he said. It was all he wanted to say on the subject for the moment, so Teagan tried a new tactic. He looked at his wife sidelong, with the sun making her hair shine like obsidian. "Will you give up this fine morning to melancholy, Jenna? Abandon me to my work for the day or will you let me kiss you?" he asked.

Her hesitation was only momentary, long enough for her to breathe out one slow exhalation, but it felt prolonged. Jenna closed her eyes. "Kiss me," she answered.

"I warn you now, I'll want to kiss all the places that I missed last night," he said.

She gave him a much warmer smile than he'd seen in some time and desire pooled in him. He'd missed this spontaneity, even if they were making love more often these days. It had lost its vigor when it became the last chore at the end of a tiring day. Here in the field with the nearly noon time sun overhead, it was unplanned, patient and filled with an unhurried leisure that had gone missing recently.

Teagan started by kissing the small of her back, feeling her delighted shiver as he pressed his lips to the soft, tight skin there. He'd undone the clasps that held her into her dress and let it fall away under his hands as he quested over her. It was his plan to kiss her all over, because he'd missed all of her. As he laid kisses like links in a chain, Teagan started unexpectedly, to sing. A courting song came to his lips, and he let the rests be punctuated by kisses. Jenna laughed, not just at hearing his song but at how his kisses tickled and delighted.

She caught his face in her hands as he drew up her body, planting a kiss on her chin and then one on the end of her nose. "You never sing," she said, laughing.

"I would have sung the courting songs to you, if you hadn't been stuck all the way in Highever. I could have made a proper time of it, if we'd been engaged longer."

"It's not too late," Jenna said, kissing him now. She was standing nearly bare in just her smallclothes and boots, her hands at his collar, bringing him closer.

Teagan sang another line to her, a whisper in her ear. It was just for her, too quiet for even the birds to hear. He felt her shiver, the playfulness turning into something more heated, ripe with possibility.

"Take off your clothes," she whispered to him, stirring the hair on his neck. It was an order for all that it was soft and breathy in his ear. Teagan shivered.

"If my lady wishes," he said.

"I do. You never take off your clothes anymore," Jenna said.

"Don't I?" She shook her head and he thought about it as he undressed. Jenna pulled her boots from her feet and removed her smallclothes, a display he normally would have watched if he hadn't been so busy taking off his own clothes. She was correct, however, and it displeased him. He hadn't even bothered to get fully undressed the last few times they'd been together.

He would now, because she asked it of him, and there was nothing else in the world for him to do but make her happy in this moment. When he was nude, he looked up and saw Jenna a few paces away, standing in the tall, golden grass. The sunlight limned her skin in gilt as she stood waiting for him. Oh, but he could drown in her. 

When Teagan reached her, he went immediately to his knees. This wasn't how they did things, but there was no soft bed and darkness, only the quiet of the forest beyond the clearing and the sunlight warming his back. He kissed the nest of curls between her legs before delving beneath them, feeling the raffish curls not yet damp with the arousal he'd began kindling as he undressed her.

As he parted her folds she widened her stance, and he felt Jenna's hands come to brace her on his shoulders. Teagan grinned to himself as he licked, relishing the first taste of her. This was all he ever needed, the milky, earthy taste of her on his tongue, the sound of her shuddering gasps above him. On his knees like a supplicant, his tongue lapping to bring her pleasure with the sun just overhead, it almost as if he were worshipping her. Maybe he was, in this small way. Her fingers curled in his hair as he ran his tongue between her lips again, careful to lavish attention on the hard pearl at the end before starting over again, methodically, carefully. However long it took, it didn't matter. Teagan lost count, but it wasn't very long before she was shaking, the pulse of her thrumming against his face, one hand digging into his should and the other gripping his head. 

She was still fluttering, shaking as she settled down onto him. They were sitting, but Teagan lay back onto the blanket, pulling her with him. He wasn't inside of her, not yet, almost. He could feel Jenna's heat and moistness, tempting so close to his cock. She shifted slightly away from him, and he caught her breast in his wet mouth, sucking the tip until she moaned. After he gave the same attention to her other nipple, she kissed him on his jaw and chin and finally, the lips. The sun was right overhead so he kept his eyes closed, just feeling her against him and the warmth of their kiss.

With her laying on top of him, Teagan righted their position to line up and slid home. His arms held her close to his chest, and Jenna didn't make any more moves to change their position. They started with a slow rock, their hips moving together as he barely thrust in and out, relishing the feeling of being deep within her. She was content to move slowly, languidly for a time. 

The heat between them unfurled and then gathered again, but it took time. Teagan was in no rush, and neither was Jenna, so it happened naturally. She smiled at him as she moved her hips in time with his own, and he used a finger to trace a line around her mouth. When she came back to him, they kissed. Another line of the courting song came to him, out of order and unbidden, but Teagan didn't hold it in. It made her smile again.

Then after all that ease, another, softer climax took Jenna. He felt it ripple through her, and it came on a sigh rather than a moan, but it tipped him forward just the same. Teagan felt heat begin to coalesce in him at last, pooling until urgency built up and made his thrusts harder. She was still on top, but no longer pressed against his chest, she was sitting up and holding on while he bucked beneath her. Teagan watched her breasts bounce, catching both light and shadow, mesmerizing him until he heard her call out. She said his name, and it brought his eyes to hers until his release demanded that he close them. 

Afterwards they lay there, with Teagan sprawled and Jenna curled into his side, neither talking or doing much more than breathing. He had his arm slung over his eyes, the sun was still high in sky and bright while her face was turned into his shoulder. Despite the blinding brilliance of the light, it was good to feel it all over his skin, warming places it didn't normally get to see. They would have to move, eventually, but for a time there was nothing but them and the open sky, the dog keeping guard at the edge of the field leading to them. 

Teagan rolled towards Jenna eventually and asked, "Am I forgiven for not defending you to Eamon?"

Jenna sighed. It wasn't the talk he wanted to have either, not after that, but it had to be asked. "Yes. I just wish things were different. He doesn't respect me, Teagan."

"I know, but it's not up to you to change his mind. I should have said something, however. I knew you weren't pleased. I did tell him that he wouldn't stand for me speaking to Isolde in such a way, and he apologized for it."

"Did he?"

"Yes, but you know how he is. I got a lecture about heirs and responsibility." Teagan laughed. "He might even have approved of what we did here today."

Jenna laughed too, softer, her hand brushing over his chest hair. "I doubt it. Real heirs are only begotten in your bedchambers, or did you not know that?"

Teagan chuckled, and they let the subject drop. A few more nude kisses were traded, but their time in the clearing had come to an end as the sun made its ceaseless trek across the sky. It was past noon when they got up and redressed. There was still work to do today, although he was ready for another meal and possibly a nap. Jenna held his hand as they walked back to the house, letting go only when they needed to part. 

Dust saddled his horse for him and Teagan went off, making his circuit around his lands. When he licked his lips, they still tasted of Jenna. It made him smile as he cantered off, eyes scanning the distance for signs of disturbance.

#

As the weather grew colder, Jenna reflected on that day often. She and Teagan were still ostensibly trying to get with child, but their lack of success had dampened both of their spirits. Their own desires were put to the side as duty took up more and more space in their days.

The last time she had Teagan was in the study, after breakfast. She managed to catch him after the seneschal left, and the whole encounter was nearly by rote and so fleeting she might have dreamed it. It had been quick, but not exciting in the way it might have been if they'd been stuck in a closet with the world going by just outside the door. There were few kisses between them that time, not at all like their interlude in the clearing. Jenna really thought that magical, sunny day would be the one but a week afterwards that her courses ran just as usual.

Winter came on quickly, but the onset of snowy weather didn't halt the darkspawn sightings or their attacks. If anything, it proved how cunning they could be, for they learned to cover their tracks. Teagan organized groups of his soldiers and led them out after sightings, chasing down every tale of darkspawn before it had time to turn into an attack. Most of the time they was little to show for his efforts, but now and again they ran into bands of the beasts, in increasing numbers and strength.

"Lady Jenna, come quick, the bann has asked for you," one of the guards came riding up to her as Jenna was on her daily rounds to check on the people nestled in the houses nearby the tiny center square. They weren't a village, not truly, but a few houses had been placed together, and a few shops had grown up around them. It was easy enough to look in on the people, even in the winter.

She stopped and turned, looking at the man as he dismounted and saluted her. She returned it, and then motioned for him to speak. Horatio stood at her side, his own ears pricked up, listening.

"My lady, Bann Teagan has need of your assistance. He's out at the Wyleth's orchard." He leaned in and spoke to her. "They were attacked, my lady," he whispered.

"Maker, no," Jenna said, already on her way to the post where she'd tethered her horse. "Lead me there, if you please," she said, and then stopped. "Wait, does he need supplies for the injured?"

"I wasn't told, my lady. Just that I needed to get you."

"Then we will make due with what's still in my pack. Let us be swift," Jenna said as she mounted her horse.

The orchard wasn't far from where she'd been, but it still felt as if it took far too long to get there. Her dog ran beside them, easily keeping pace with the horses. When they rode up, Jenna saw Teagan's steed tethered with the other horses, and two guards waiting outside. They were on high alert, one with the horses and the other making a slow, careful circuit. They both saluted her as she came up. Around them were obvious signs of an attack, many footprints marring the snow and what looked like old blood and dirt mixed together. Pieces of what she assumed had once been a cart lay scattered in the frozen garden, a destroyed wheel poking up from a drift of snow.

"The bann will be happy to see you, Lady Jenna. He's just inside." The guard was helping her off her horse before Jenna became aware that she'd stopped riding, and she was moving the supplies from her saddlebags to her own pack with quick fingers.

When she entered the house, the door was off its hinges. Horatio began to growl menacingly as he looked around. Inside there was much more signs of struggle. Furniture was overturned and broken, fresh blood dried into hard rust colored stains across the floorboards. She could smell it in the air, but not the rotting scent that she'd come to associate with the taint. Bandits then, or some regular kind of menace. She almost felt relieved at the thought.

"Jenna," Teagan sounded relieved to see her. "Be careful. There's blood all around." He drew closer to her and she saw what he stood over. The body of a man and a woman were in the room, with clear signs that both had died fighting.

"Maker. At least their end was swift," she said.

"Indeed. But I didn't call you here to see this grisly scene. There's children here, Jenna, and they are still alive but refusing to come out from their hiding place. I think I scare them, the bandits must have been men. I thought maybe you might be able to coax them out. You've a gentler voice."

"Where are they?"

Teagan took her to a back room with a door that had been locked but now stood off the hinges. When she looked at Teagan, he nodded. He'd taken it off the hinges then, not the bandits. A bloody footprint lead the way to a hiding place, a trapdoor that probably had been hidden by the threadbare rug over it. Teagan stood in the doorway as Jenna kneeled down and knocked softly on the door.

"Hello?" she asked. "Is anyone there? This is Lady Jenna and Bann Teagan. We've come to help, if we can."

There was silence, but Jenna thought she heard whispering under the door. She pressed her ear to the wood and tried again.

"I swear, it is safe out here. We won't harm you, you have my word. We're only here to help."

A trembling voice answered. "Where are our parents?"

Jenna bit her lip, unsure of whether or not to tell them their parents were dead. It seemed callous to deliver such news through a wooden plank.

"If you come out, I promise I will tell you."

"No," the voice said, mulishly. "They're dead aren't they?"

"I believe so, if they're the people we saw in the other room. I am sorry. I can say the blessing for them if you like," Jenna said. She was failing, unsure of what to say to this child that might draw them out of hiding.

"Help us, lady. Dennie's hurt and she can't get up."

"Can you open the door?" Jenna asked. Her hands were fumbling for her pack, unsure of what she might need once the door was opened. It was opened and her food and bandages were inside, a set of lockpicks, and some healing poultices, though she was loathe to use one until they needed it. Probably when they moved Dennie, depending on how hurt she was.

There was a pushing on the plank door, the sounds of a child straining to lift an object too heavy for her from the other side. Jenna scrambled to get away from it as it started to open. She couldn't see where the hinges were and didn't want to be in the way. But it was heavy and Teagan was there pulling it from their side once it was up far enough for him to get purchase. A fresh wave of blood wafted up from the open door. Dennie, whomever she was, was hurt badly.

Jenna pushed her face through the door to find a small, dank wooden compartment. It was just enough space for a few people to lay in, not made for long term hiding. When she looked, she could see the leg of a small girl hanging at the wrong angle. It was certainly broken. Another girl, older, almost a teenager, had wrapped fabric around it to staunch the bleeding. It was soaked through.

Teagan put his face next to hers, and asked quietly, "may I lift you out of there, Dennie? Lady Jenna will be right here."

"Yeah, okay."

Teagan carefully positioned himself to be able to reach into the crawl space, and then levered Dennie out. It took some strength, and she could see his jaw set as he carefully lifted the smaller of the two girls from the hole. Jenna moved over to the opening once they were out and stuck her hand in. A smaller, dirty hand gripped hers in return as the other older girl lifted herself out using Jenna as leverage.

Dennie was badly hurt and Teagan was carefully laying her on the floor, for lack of a better place. Jenna took a blanket from the nearby broken mess that had once been the bed, and spread it out for them. At least it was relatively clean in here as opposed to the rest of the nearly destroyed house. Jenna looked over the older girl, scanning her quickly for obvious injuries. She recognized her. They'd met once, her and the girl's father. That must have been the man in the other room.

"You're Molly, right?" she asked. Molly looked surprised and then gave her a small smile.

"Yeah, I didn't think you'd remember my name, my lady," she said. "Me and da talked with you once when you came riding up."

"Molly, I need to see to Dennie. Are you hurt?" Jenna asked.

"Got some bruises but they'll heal right enough." Molly was a practical girl, not given to exaggeration. Jenna could tell she was speaking truth.

"Will you go outside with Bann Teagan?" she asked. When Teagan turned his head towards her, she explained. "Dennie's going to need a wagon. Theirs was smashed, I saw it outside and there were no horses but ours. Molly knows which neighbors have one and you can have a guard ride to get it. I can take care of Dennie."

He nodded and Molly agreed, and the two of them went out. Dennie was pale and sweating, nearly blue in the face with the pain. Teagan had been holding her hand, but hadn't dared to try to right her leg. Jenna wouldn't attempt it either, she was not so skilled at the healing arts to try something of that magnitude. But she had to do something for the child, so she went over and tried dropping some of the poultice down her throat. Dennie wasn't swallowing it, the thick liquid slipping out of the corners of her mouth ineffectually. Jenna would have to sit her up and try again. She did, taking great care with the girl. As she worked another guard came in and explained that Bann Teagan had gone with Molly to a neighbor for their cart and the bann had requested him to watch over Jenna and Dennie.

Jenna worked, first getting Dennie to accept some of the poultice to ease the pain, and then to get her out of the blood stained clothes to see the damage. It was worse than she thought. Both of her legs were broken, one looked like it been shattered. Molly probably picked her up and brought her to the hiding place. Dennie would die soon, if they didn't have someone tend to her. If she lived, she wouldn't walk on her own.

"You need to go get the healer," Jenna said, her voice calm. She was speaking to the guard without turning to face him, but he answered her readily enough.

"Bann Teagan sent a guard already, my lady. He thought she looked worse for the moving."

"Then I'll need fresh water and a fire," Jenna said. She could at least get the girl clean while they waited.

#

By the time Teagan returned to Wyleth's orchard, quite a few things had happened. Jenna had to knights looking for clues as to where the bandits came from and what direction they might have went. The child, Dennie, was cleaner, and while Jenna had tended her as best she could, was still looking extremely fragile, and he feared that she might not make it. The healer showed up not long after he did, and for that Teagan was glad. He couldn't imagine moving the girl without healing, and even with it he wasn't sure it was wise.

Maker, these were the things had hated, the ones he could never set right. He tried to steward the lands and the people as well as possible and there were always attacks like this. This one came right at a time when the last darkspawn attack, from when he was still in Denerim, was fresh in the minds of his people. That time at least no one had been hurt, but it still would add to their unease.

The healer stood over the small girl, the pulse of magic at her hands. Jenna was still holding Dennie's hand. Magic wouldn't fix everything, he knew, but he found himself praying that it would do more than he hoped. The girl started to regain consciousness as the healer took a break to down a lyrium potion.

"Mama?" the small voice asked.

"It's Lady Jenna. I'm the bann's wife," Jenna said softly, answering the child.

"Mama?" the confused girl asked again.

"Yes, baby," Jenna cooed, smoothing the hair back from Dennie's sweat covered face. 

"It hurts," Dennie cried and began to sob. They were weak, tired little sobs that reminded him of any wounded animal out in the wild. The kind it so hurt an arrow would be a mercy. Teagan chided himself mentally for thinking such things, for letting hope escape him so easily.

"I know, baby. Be strong for me." Jenna was keeping the child still as the healer worked, pouring magic into her wounds. Teagan couldn't watch but wouldn't turn away, so he looked at Jenna, her face bathed in the wan light from the magic. The tenderness in Jenna's voice almost broke him.

After another quarter hour, the healer got up. "We can move her now that she's sleep. The legs are still bad, she'll need to lose the right one at the knee. But now the biggest worry is infection. I don't know how long they were hiding in the cold, but it didn't do her any favors."

Jenna sat in the back of the cart, holding Dennie as they slowly rode towards Rainesfere. They were all covered in cloaks and as many unbloodied blankets as they could find in the house. Molly bundled in next to her and the healer. The full cart made the ride slower but the cart bounced less for the weight.

He vowed to do his best to find the bandits and wipe them out before they could ruin more lives. The guards that had come with him agreed, despite the cold. No one relished this duty, but it had to be done, for the good of his people. Many of the guards that volunteered to come with him were the ones that had been at Wyleth's orchard -- they'd seen the destruction left behind and knew the faces of the dead.

He didn't see his wife much that week, but Teagan hadn't expected to. Jenna was with both girls at the healers cabin. Molly was staying there with her sister, and he'd written to their relations in Gwaren. Hopefully someone would come soon. Jenna sat at Dennie's sickbed as the child fought for her life, the infection that the healer had feared would set into her broken bones did, ravishing the little girl with fever.

His duty had been to go after the bandits, trying to track them after he knew that Jenna was settled with the girls. Part of him was glad to be away, it touched and hurt him too much to be with Jenna while she took care of the children. While he could only offer small comforts, she was so good with them. Jenna was endlessly patient and comforting, and he had little trouble imagining her with their children in just the same way. Never had he wanted and dreaded children of his own so much. Seeing Molly and Dennie hurt rendered Teagan inert with rage.

While Teagan could tend field injuries, he was less than useless in the sickroom, but Jenna was a comfort to them. The moments he had at home, he watched as both girls clung to her, though Dennie was waking up less and less as the days went on. If only he could have done more, he'd wished more than once, knowing that it was a useless, invasive thought. Feeling useless never set well with Teagan.

Tracking the bandits took him some time, and he and his guards had to go on foot. The bandits had been on foot, so it was easier to follow their path, and there was no sound of horses to alert them. But it was nearly winter in the south of Ferelden, and so very cold. His breathe was little more than chilled mist, and his feet nearly froze in his boots, but Teagan needed only to think of the child clinging to life at his wife's side before he was determined to keep on.

Their camp was deep within the woods, and they hadn't bothered to hide it well, trusting to the trees and caves to make their cover for them. They'd stopped masking their tracks once within the forest, for there was little snow and a thick carpet of pine needles on the ground. He saw the signs of places where many people had passed, making a path without care for the balance of the forest. Teagan knew these lands and followed the disturbances they left behind, easily finding their cave base of operations.

The first guard they took out silently, an arrow to neck. His only sound was a sputter as he went down, drowning in his own blood. The second, Teagan caught from behind, one angry swing cleaving head from shoulders. They were alerted by then, more coming from within the cave to engage his forces. He could have been quieter, but he didn't want to mask his intent. Not with that poor girl so ill she was delirious back at his house and him her only chance for justice. A fury rose within him, and burned hot as he cut down another mercenary.

They weren't a very large group, but organized, decent fighters. He parried a hit from another bandit, and slammed into him with his shield, knocking the air from him as he drew his sword back. They weren't great fighters, but better trained than some and he dimly wondered if they were deserters from the army or the local militia of some other bannorn. The templars caught any that tried to stray from their ranks, or at least, most. The question evaporated in his mind as Teagan continued to fight, honing his rage into a focus that narrowed down to just one thing, the haunted look in his wife's eyes as she tried to keep a little girl from death. The sounds around him dulled, but he could tell his soldiers were winning. They had better armor and equipment, and probably more training. He'd see them all rewarded for their part in this.

When he came upon the last one, the leader, Teagan didn't flinch as he ran his sword through him, through the soft leather armor that was pieced together from unmatched sets. He didn't want to hear whatever story that had been rehearsed to convince of innocence to spare his life a little bit longer. All he could think about was Jenna's dark, shadowed eyes and tired, lined face as she hugged a child suffering through a terrible infection to her, and how there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. This wouldn't make it right, not at all, but it would stop them from doing it again. There would be more bandits, he knew, but no future victims of these.

"No trial?" the bandit gasped, blood staining his teeth as he forced the words out. Cocky bastard, even in the end. Teagan twisted his sword, but didn't bother to answer the taunt. He'd seen their handiwork, found pieces from Wyleth's orchard in their hideout. Guilt was already known, and he was the leader. Teagan withdrew his sword and let the blood spill. Life receded from the man's eyes, no longer laughing, but dulling as each second ticked on. Teagan stood over him, his face hard as rivulets of sweat dripped down it.

"Guilty," he spat, the word as hard and cold as the stone walls around them. The man slid off the end of his sword, dead before he hit the ground. They'd take whatever spoils were left in here and then set fire to cave to clear the bodies. The energy from his earlier rage fled him as the metallic, sick scent of blood filled his nose. Teagan cleaned his sword off and sheathed it, sweating hard in his armor. He was weary to the bone and more than ready to go home.


	27. Chapter 27

She was there when Dennie succumbed. The child had been hot and feverish for a long time, and her little body fought valiantly against it, but ultimately lost. Molly had cried against her for a long time until she wore herself out. Their relatives still hadn't arrived from Gwaren yet, though they were expected soon. She didn't relish giving them the news that they would only have one child to take.

Jenna went to the Chantry herself and wrapped the body with the sisters. She helped clean and wrap the body, drawing on ancient knowledge of the procedure that had come one summer when her mother had punished her by making her work with Mother Mallol in the Chantry in their castle in Highever. Maker, that summer had been so long and her teenaged mind couldn't think of anything more boring, but now her hands knew what to do without her mind taking the time to consciously remember.

When they sent young Dennie to walk at the Maker's side, she tried to stay strong. Most of the townsfolk that knew the family from Wyleth's orchard had turned up, and there were few people unmoved by the loss of a child. Teagan stood stoically next to her, letting Jenna sob into his shoulder when she could no longer keep her sadness at bay. She'd prayed for Dennie's recovery, for her to get well again and live, but the Maker truly didn't listen to his children. Thinking of her unanswered prayers made Jenna feel hollow inside.

Fairness was never promised in life, and yet Jenna had started to expect it. She wanted to demand it be so, just because she was mistress of these lands, and yet, she had no power. Nothing she could do would bring Dennie back to life or a baby to her empty womb. She cried for that too, for the loss she felt every month when her courses ran, and how disappointment filled her with so much bitterness that she could taste it her mouth whenever she tried to speak about it. Teagan no longer asked about children, and she would have no answer for him if he did. Dennie had been another child that Jenna wouldn't have, couldn't save, and it was tearing her to pieces inside.

Molly's remaining family came two days after Dennie was sent to the Maker. Jenna didn't remember receiving them, only that they came and the girl was gone from their house by the end of the day, removed to the boarding house where her relatives were staying to get to know them.

Days passed with Jenna and Teagan barely letting more than a few words slip between them. He was maintaining what he probably thought was a respectful distance, but she felt like he was letting her spin into a free fall of grief. On the third day after Dennie was sent to the Maker, Jenna went to the armory and polished every weapon in there, until she felt like her arms were going to fall off. They didn't really need it, there was someone to tend to them, but she needed something to do that didn't make her feel like it mattered if she fell apart. The swords and daggers didn't mind if she took ten minutes to cry in the middle of tending them.

The next day she didn't cry, nor did she get out of bed. She hadn't thought that anyone noticed her absence, she'd forgone most of her duties to care for Dennie and Molly. Teagan came to find her when she didn't come to dinner. She sat up, but when he put a hand on her shoulder, she flinched away. He withdrew his hand but still sat next to her on the bed.

"I missed you today. Are you hungry?" 

Jenna shook her head. She could feel the tears stinging her eyes, tears she couldn't hide any longer. She looked up hoping that she could will them not to fall by denying them a course downward, but they cheated by falling out of the corners of her eyes. Teagan noticed, damn him. She heard it in the sigh he heaved.

"No one could do anything, Jenna. The child's injuries were grave, despite your care. You did nothing wrong."

Her tears came in full then, and there was no point in trying to hide them. She let them fall freely, and Teagan crossed the room to embrace her. 

He pulled her back onto the bed, wordlessly. It calmed her to be there, wrapped up in him. Teagan smelled as he always did, of cedar chips and sage and the faint traces of the almond milk soap that she'd bought off a dwarven merchant from Orlais every time he came through Rainesfere. As it turned out, there wasn't that many tears left inside of her. She was tired, and cried out from a week of trying to make sense of everything.

When he kissed her it was a natural extension of his comfort. When she kissed him back she could barely breathe with her runny nose and constricted throat, but it was worth it. The immeasurable sadness she'd felt that had begun to fill her started to recede, and she kissed him again and again, until another sob escaped her. Teagan produced a handkerchief from somewhere on his person, and she laughed as she blew into it. The remains of her sobbing fit had left her face puffy, but at least she was no longer stuffed up. Jenna lay back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling.

"Are you all right?" Teagan asked.

She shook her head again. Then she reached out a hand to him, pulling on his shirt. He obliged her, leaning into her pull as she drew him closer. Jenna kissed Teagan again, a quick kiss but filled with intent. When they parted, Teagan's eyes were narrowed, questioning, but he said nothing.

Jenna cupped his face but didn't try to explain, just kissed him again. She couldn't get it out in word even if she'd tried. It was just a feeling, a need that was a longing for the reassurance of a familiar touch, some comfort to put right a tragedy that seemed incomprehensible. Then, with her lips pressed to his, she felt comprehension dawn in Teagan, like he'd heard her thoughts. It made his mouth softer, open to hers. There was one way to combat death, a reminder to live. She needed that right then.

Teagan gave her exactly what she needed, as the snow fell down on Rainesfere all night.

#

First Day swept an old, awful year behind it. Jenna and Teagan celebrated modestly, tossing about plans to go north to Highever in the spring. The people of Rainesfere had their own celebrations, and Jenna could hear cheering in the square. Ever since the young girl passed to the Maker, Teagan had been loathe to leave Jenna alone, though she seemed more herself everyday. There was still a sadness that lingered, and he supposed it must show in himself as well, because he'd caught looks between the servants, pity on the face of his seneschal when they had to review work over and over again because his mind wandered.

This year was a chance to make a fresh start, or at least, try for one. He sighed as he thought on it; he and Jenna had never needed a fresh start more, not since their first year of marriage. In his private thoughts, things that he never voiced aloud, he was so tired that he felt near to exhaustion every day. It was if things were too quiet for a few years and now the universe was trying to make up for it. Sometimes, he wondered if he would withstand it all, but he drew strength from knowing Jenna would endure anything with him.

Two days after the new year, the snow lay in a thick blanket over an already snow-covered Rainesfere. Any signs of the celebration were gone, for snow fell heavy and fast over the lands with only brief respites before it continued to pile up. The snowstorm seemed to galvanize Jenna, and she was out for most of the day checking on the townsfolk she could reach and then making sure the guards and the horses were properly prepared for the storm. When she came in for dinner that night with cold reddened cheeks and determination glinting in her eyes, pride welled up in Teagan as he watched her. Purpose made her steps certain, and when she came down for dinner instead of taking it in their room, he could see that it was not without cost -- she was exhausted, but still able to give him a tired smile.

"There was a messenger from Eamon. No doubt he left Redcliffe just as the storm started and lost his way. I met him out when I was checking on all the townsfolk. He had a message for you, but he was just about frozen to his horse when Horatio found him. He's in the barracks, warming up, but I have the missive," she said, and handed him a sealed letter. It was dry but smelled like wet wool and leather. Teagan opened it, and then swore as he read the contents.

"Eamon has summoned me as soon as the weather breaks. There are important things going on that he wishes me to be aware of, yet couldn't commit them to paper. I hope it is important, or he's just being an imperious ass," Teagan said, earning a small giggle from his wife.

"Your brother is an ass, but it likely is important if he was willing to risk sending a rider in this weather. He probably already waited for the First Day celebrations to be over before sending it, so let us be thankful for that."

Teagan took her hand from across the table and stroked the top of it with his thumb. Her hand was still cold from her time outside, but her chilled skin was buttery soft. "You're as wise as you are beautiful."

Jenna snorted an inelegant laugh at his words. "You're full of horse shit, Bann Teagan, but lucky for you, I like you."

The weather broke a day and a half later, and Teagan didn't have the luxury to wait for the roads to clear. Before the merchants and their heavy carts could cut ruts into the snow, he took his carriage and horses and set off at a slow pace. Redcliffe wasn't so far as to necessitate a change of horses to get there, but he would let his team rest overnight, or longer if they needed it, borrowing replacements from Eamon's stable if the need arose. He hoped it wouldn't; he was rather attached to his matched greys.

"Ah Teagan, you made it. I was worried that the rider hadn't beat the worst of the storm," Eamon said as a greeting when Teagan finally arrived in Redcliffe.

"Jenna found him on his way into Rainesfere. She was checking on the people as the storm grew, and he had drifted a little from his course. She got the message, sent him to the barracks and got his horse stabled before I even knew about it."

"Really?" Eamon sounded incredulous about the whole of the story, as if he suspected Teagan of simply making it up to cast Jenna in a positive light. "Then I take it she is no longer quite so overset about the death of that child?"

Teagan sat down in the chair where he normally sat on the opposite side of Eamon and let the fire warm his feet. "She is making a great effort to move on."

"It was a terrible thing, what those bandits did. Jenna was generous in taking care of those girls."

"Are you quite all right?" Teagan asked, unsure as to if he'd really just heard Eamon complimenting his wife. "Have you been at the brandy before I arrived?"

Eamon chuckled, the sound deep and vanishing into his beard. "No, not at all into the brandy, and as all right as I can be, I assure you. My First Day was spent in the Chantry, in contemplation. My biases against Lady Jenna aren't entirely based in fact, so I resolved to try harder. I doubt we shall ever be friends, but I have seen how much she loves you, and you her. It would be reason enough to try for just you, but my son and wife also love her. I was left wondering why I wouldn't see what everyone said was apparent."

"That is very reasonable, Eamon. Thank you for trying," Teagan said, somewhat humbled. His first day had also involved inward reflection but nothing he could so easily change as Eamon did his treatment of Jenna.

"It is overdue."

"She and I were planning to go to Highever in the spring, if the winter isn't long."

"I'm afraid there is more than just the weather to worry about, Teagan," Eamon said, unusually ominous in his tone.

"So what was our important business?" Teagan asked, taking a sip of his brandy. It Antivan, old, smooth with a slight afterburn that took some of the chill from him.

Eamon sighed, as if he had hoped they wouldn't get to the point quite so soon in their conversation. "We are going to war against the darkspawn, once the weather breaks. It is a certainty, now more than ever. Cailan is sure that this is a new Blight. He has Grey Wardens at his side that say it is," Eamon told him.

"And what of Alistair?" Teagan asked.

"He is with the wardens, so his fate is in the Maker's hands. As it always has been, though I can't say I'm not worried that he will march with the Grey Wardens."

"Maker watch over us all," Teagan said. "Are the Wardens certain about this, this prediction?"

"Cailan says that they can tell, and from what I remember of them, that has always been part of what they do. They wait and keep watch. I am inclined to believe them. There is to be a Landsmeet at first thaw in Denerim, which is probably the worst time for you and I to go. The roads will be thick with mud for months after the winter, but we cannot afford to wait if this is a true Blight. Maker, a Blight, I shudder just to think it, though I can see the signs myself."

"I am willing to go to Denerim," Teagan said, but Eamon waved a hand at him.

"No, I will do it. Isolde and Connor will stay here, since I can go faster on my own. I'm already trying to gear the men in the militia up for the unexpected, but that damn blacksmith in town, I forget his name, he's slower than honey on a cold day."

"What can I do?" Teagan asked, tensed in his seat. The excellent brandy was no longer warming him, and he set it aside on the table that sat between him and Eamon. 

"Nothing that you aren't already doing. We knew this was coming, I just hoped to have more time, but the damn things are coming from the Chasind lands in the Wilds. If I have you go to Denerim, the other banns in the region will wonder why you went and not them. Stay here, train your men, prepare for anything and speak with Jenna. I would have invited her too, had I known she was doing better." Eamon then gave another small chuckle as he thought better of it. "Then again, I doubt she would sit in a room with me for too long without Isolde nearby. Isolde and I have spoken of the situation, but I have no wish to worry her unduly yet, so it is all in abstracts."

They sat together in morose silence for more than a few minutes, until Eamon realized that his drink was finished and moved to pour himself more. He looked tired, his face pinched and drawn, as if he hadn't been sleeping well.

"Did the dwarves ever produce any of the swords Cailan commissioned from them?" Teagan asked, remembering back.

"Some of them. You know how dwarves are with their steel, all the work that goes into it, their traditions and honor and such. I told him that quick wasn't exactly their strongest point, but he wouldn't listen. He'll have to make due with whatever comes by the beginning of spring." Eamon took a drink, firelight glinting off the deep amber color of the liquid in his glass. "Let us speak of something else, Teagan. I am too tired and frightened to talk more of the Blight."

"Aye brother, I understand. Is Connor doing well?" Teagan asked, sitting back in his chair.

"Yes, very. He learns quickly and it is quite talkative. He's been working in the stables with some of the other boys his age. I think he's making friends." Eamon launched into a story about his son, and Teagan picked up his drink again to listen. Had he not seen the increased signs of darkspawn himself, he would think Cailan too eager to go to war. Now he was simply frightened, for the future held the promise of an enemy that didn't retreat. Alistair would be facing down that enemy on the front lines, if what Eamon said was true, and that thought unsettled him more than a little.

Teagan's earnest hope for the new year flickered out inside of him as he drank the last drops in his cup.


	28. Chapter 28

_"Hard times are ahead and though I admit to my trepidation, I will not falter. My worries aren't for myself, but for your safety. It's a foolish thought to want to protect the woman who can best me in any sparring match, but still it persists."_  
 -- A letter from Bann Teagan Guerrin to his wife Jenna Cousland Guerrin, 9:30 Dragon

Maker, the Blight. It was really happening, no longer speculation and shadow threat looming on the edges of someday. She hadn't wanted to believe it when Teagan came back from Redcliffe with a hangdog expression and even graver news. What had once been rumors and speculation had been confirmed, and on the heels of that confirmation came the word that Ferelden, with its scattered forces and few Grey Wardens, was going to fight the darkspawn. From what was said, the darkspawn were nearly neighbors to them, coming from the south in the Chasind lands and spreading northward. It was the furthest south any Blight had been, if she remembered her history correctly.

Much to his chagrin and Jenna's immense relief, Teagan wasn't going to fight at Ostagar. Eamon had gone to Cailan and offered his men, which included the forces of Rainesfere as he had Teagan's fealty, but the king refused. Teyrn Loghain had 'a plan' to which neither Teagan nor she were privy. Though it was decided months before the battle, Jenna saw Teagan itching to leave, wanting to do more than fortify as the time for battle grew nearer. Had she known that fighting ran so deep within him, she might have just told him to go on, despite her fears. It crossed her mind more than once in the days running up to it, but afterwards Jenna thanked the Maker that Teagan hadn't been caught up in that debacle.

It was like Ostagar was the catalyst for a series of events that were too terrible to be just random. The battle there was beyond horrible, a massacre. At first she and Teagan only heard bits and pieces of it, but it is enough to make Teagan ride off to Denerim on the heels of the survivors. There were so few survivors, and she knows Highever sent men. There was no word before Teagan left, nothing at all that might have given her an inkling about whether or father and brother were in the battle. She couldn't even speculate whether or not they lived.

Without word from her family and no king if the rumors were to be believed, Jenna concentrated on taking care of the stragglers that make their way to Rainesfere. Normally Jenna would have directed them to Redcliffe and their Chantry -- they simply had more resources -- but she couldn't turn people away. Just before Teagan left for Denerim, Isolde sent word that Eamon had fallen ill, and she was spending all of her time taking care of him and Connor. It was lucky that most of the people she saw were more shocked than gravely injured, and none of them had the Blight.

This was all such a mess before Teagan went haring off to Denerim, but then the messenger came. She recognized him vaguely when he rode up.

"My lady Cousland, I bear urgent news from Highever," he said, riding up to her on a horse that was about to give out. They'd been riding hard, and he had the shadowy jaw and tired eyes to match.

Her last note from her family had been in the form of battle plans, telling her that Fergus was leading the men from Highever to Ostagar to fight in the battle with her father, and that her mother would be staying behind. She was sure Mother hadn't been pleased with that arrangement.

The rider dropped stiffly from the horse and fell to his knees. Jenna waited for him to straighten, but after a moment realized that he couldn't. He was crying, overtired and now that she looked at him, had the look of a man that was running rather than an official messenger. A terrible chill settled in her gut as she helped the man to his feet.

"My lady, forgive me," he choked out as Jenna made soothing noises. Her patrol had alerted her to the rider in Highever colors and she'd gone out to meet him, standing near the stables. She let the grooms take the poor horse and led the man towards the kitchens.

He spilled more of the ale down his front than he drank, but Jenna thought the mere act of holding it was comforting to him. He was younger than her, she realized, one of the boys that had started a squire and become a knight in her father's service. For the life of her, she couldn't recall his name, but remembered the sound of his laugh. He wasn't a messenger, not at all, but a knight. Maker, what was going on?

"I remember you," she began and he looked up at her. He had wild, scared eyes, blown so wide with fear that she began to make soothing noises again, as if he were a spooked horse.

"My lady Cousland, it's my duty to tell you of the tragedy. My last order was given by the Teyrna, and she ordered me to reach you. Castle Cousland was taken by Arl Howe's men. The teyrn and teyrna are," he gulped but didn't falter, "they're dead, my lady."

"Arl Howe? Of Amaranthine? Are you certain?"

"I saw their shields myself and stood next to the teyrna as she fought against them. Her last order was for me to find you at all costs, and tell you what happened."

A cool calm that felt so close to the paralysis of terror Jenna wasn't sure which it really was gripped her, and she turned and asked the cook to make them up a plate and bring it to the study she shared with Teagan. Then, tenderly, she helped him to his feet and took him away from the crowd of listening ears in the kitchen so she could hear his story. Tears stung at her eyes and panic threatened to steal her breath, but Jenna made herself hold firm. She only wished that Teagan were back from Denerim right now. She could sure use him.

When she brought the knight to the study, the warm fire and the food that soon followed helped calm him further. He was exhausted, and Jenna expected that he would soon fall into the sleep of true exhaustion once relieved of his burden. He began the story again, telling her all he knew of the night before. Fergus had already gone to Ostagar with the troops. Arl Howe had lamented that Jenna was married because one of his sons expressed interest in her. He found it odd that the Arl would mention such a thing to her father, and remembered it.

But then the story of that night had began. Lady Landra and her son had been visiting her mother at the time, and he assumed that they too had died in the chaos, though he did not know for certain. Poor Dairren! Maker, for all that had come between them, he didn't deserve such a death. Oriana and Oren were both dead, for he heard her mother crying about it as she fought Howe's men. He'd encountered the teyrna as she fought her way to gate, where Ser Gilmore and his men held it. Gilmore ordered this man, Darrok, to stay with the teyrna. By then mother knew where father had gone, and they went to the secret passage out of the kitchens, where another knight had carried father after Howe's men attacked him and left him for dead.

Her mother told this man to go and she could cover his exit. She wouldn't leave her father to die alone, she'd said. Then she'd armed her bow and ordered him, promising to shoot everyone that came in there to buy him time, if only he'd get to Jenna and Teagan. Let them know the truth of it all, before Howe had time to spread his lies.

"It was the bravest thing I'd ever seen," Darrok told her.

He kept on talking but Jenna sank to her knees, unable to remain standing. Her whole family, gone, just like they'd never existed. Arl Howe must have been confident that he could either kill her or make her stay her hand, because she'd observed no threats to herself, no assassins or mercenaries sent after her. Ser Gilmore had bade this man protect her mother, and her orders were to go to Jenna, so he'd come as fast as he could. Maker, if Gilmore himself hadn't come, then he'd likely died holding the gate for her mother. All of her family's retainers, their truest soldiers, her family. Why?

Her mind felt too filled with silence, the questions and feelings she had blotted out by a deafening silence that shouldn't have been there. It was too loud and too quiet and crushing. It was as if she were out of her own body, but still confined to her mind. She didn't remember the hands that helped her to her feet, or even crying, but her face was wet with tears and she was being shown gently to her bedroom. How could this all be true? They'd been set to visit before the call to Ostagar had been made. Her father had sent men. Fergus headed a company of them himself, but she'd had no word of him since the ill-fated battle.

With no Teagan and the increasing realization that her family could possibly truly be gone, Jenna was really all alone. She started screaming and heard herself as if she were outside of her own body, screams that went on and on, twisting into pained wails until she couldn't breathe any longer.

#

Teagan didn't get the welcome home he was expecting when he first set out. Things in Denerim had been tense, and he'd ridden out with his handful of men not long after Loghain declared himself regent. It was absurd, and he could only think that grief was the reason that Queen Anora allowed it to happen. He'd never thought of Anora as a fragile woman and this capitulation seemed utterly out of character, but grief was an awful thing. Maker, he could hardly even wrap his mind around the fact that Cailan, his strong, sweet, foolish nephew was no more.

A sense that kept prickling at him told him to get home as swiftly as he could, and after his confrontation with Loghain, it was a wise choice to leave town. Nothing more could be said or done at this juncture, and though he didn't like it, Teagan had the lesser hand. Loghain had decades of loyalty and service on his side, and Teagan, he was just dead Queen Rowan's brother, none too powerful in his own right.

He had thought to stop in Redcliffe, but as he drew closer he spurred himself past it to Rainesfere. As his journey had gone on, he had an increasing feeling of disquiet that was confirmed when he stopped to change his horses in Lothering. Lothering's bann was gone with Loghain, leaving the templars overburdened and no one to enforce the crown's law or help the people. It was a disgrace. The town was a crossroads and full of news from all places even as it filled people refugees fleeing the Blight. At that moment fear gripped everyone but instead of stopping the gossips, it enlivened them.

"They say Highever was taken." Teagan heard the words in whispers in their tavern, and he closed his eyes against them, as if that could stop the battering effect they had on him. Taken by whom? The darkspawn were to the south, but he knew in his heart that this wasn't at all about darkspawn.

In bits and pieces he heard more, about how Arl Howe had taken the castle with much bloodshed, and that no Couslands survived, not even the youngest. Oren. Maker help him. The only Cousland that anyone was sure still lived was Jenna, and it was thought that it was Eamon's protection that kept her alive, for even Howe's forces wouldn't dare test the knights of Redcliffe.

Teagan practically flew the rest of the way back to Rainesfere. When he arrived, he got there and found Jenna with an unfamiliar knight in Highever colors, standing over a map on his desk in the study. Next to it lay several other large maps, relegated to the floor for whatever reason, and a few books. Jenna looked her grief, her shoulders had a slump to them that wasn't normally there, her face was too gaunt. He watched her for a moment, hoping to glean some information but all she did was swear as she poured over her documents. When he moved further into the room, she looked up and met his eyes.

"You've heard," she said, and Teagan nodded. His breath froze in his chest at the confirmation, though she never had to say it. He'd never make her say the words, not for all the rest of their years together, not if she didn't want to say them. It had been hard enough for him to grow up knowing that his parents were gone, never truly knowing them at all. For the Couslands and as close as they all were, he couldn't imagine that kind of pain, the kind his Jenna must be enduring at that moment.

"I'm so sorry, my love," he said, at a loss for what he should say or do next. The knight at her side turned to her, looking for a dismissal. It was granted, and the door closed behind him as he exited.

"You're needed in Redcliffe," she said, her eyes not meeting his. "Something is amiss there, but I couldn't go to find out."

"I heard that as well," Teagan confirmed, feeling far too heavy and old in that one moment. One of the knights of Redcliffe had approached him, and told him that Isolde sent them out to look for Andraste's ashes. The ashes! Was Eamon really that ill? Teagan would find out soon enough, but he turned back to Jenna's weary, sorrowful face and said, "I had to see you first."

Jenna gave him a wan smile, a ghost of the one of he usually saw. He wasn't sure if she wanted him to hug her, but he did anyway. Too many days and nights apart with too much danger between them had taken a toll on Teagan. All that had passed in the days since he'd left for Denerim, he could barely take it all in, let alone comprehend it.

"Teagan," she began, but stopped to bite her lip. She didn't seem to be able to say more, but he didn't need to hear it. He took one of her trembling hands in his, fighting back his own fears and sadness.

"Will you eat with me? I need something before I ride off to Redcliffe. I'm not sure what I'll find there, and I'd feel better knowing that you'd eaten too," he said.

At his words Jenna nodded, and then she began to cry. He held her as her back shook with pent-up tears, of sorrow that she'd need to cut off and set aside to continue working. For now, he could hold her, and they could figure out what came next together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another slight deviation from canon, where (i think) Teagan already knows that Eamon isn't well when we see the cutscene of him confronting Loghain and Anora in Denerim. I had trouble working the timing of this chapter, so I think it works better if he doesn't know that Eamon's been poisoned before he leaves for Denerim.
> 
> There's a good bit of stuff that's in the game that I'll be sort of glossing over in order to move Jenna and Teagan's story forward through the events of Origins. The Warden (should) make an appearance in the next chapter however.


	29. Chapter 29

There just wasn't enough time.

Teagan was achingly tired when he awoke the next morning in his bed. Thought it was a relief to be in his own space for once. Jenna was in a restless sleep next to him, and had woken up in the middle of the night several times to cry. He'd hear her sobs in his sleep as they wove in and out of his strange dreams, and then jolt awake fumbling to render what consolation he could in his half awake state. She needed his comfort, wanted him to be here with her, but she wouldn't ask -- his duty to his brother was clear. If Eamon wasn't well, was as close to death as the knights in Lothering had believed, then he needed to be there with Isolde and Connor.

Were it any other time, he'd take Jenna with him and they'd all just stay in Castle Redcliffe. Right now, they had to get their villagers and outliers ready for war. They needed to train the troops they had to be more effective against the darkspawn, to stay away and not engage unless absolutely necessary. He wanted them to be prepared for everything that was coming, and he needed to comfort his wife. Grief of this sort was the worst, it hit out of nowhere and seemed endless, because it made no sense and was so sudden. He wanted so much, but he was only one man and couldn't do it all. Were it not for the Blight, he'd take her to the castle and let Eamon and Isolde help buoy up her spirits. Right now there were questions as to whether he would even find Eamon there alive.

Jenna woke when he was washing up, and she sat on the edge of the bed as if dazed. After her last crying session, she'd fallen into a heavy sleep and hadn't stirred when he got out of the bed. He had planned not to wake her until the last moment before he left, if he could let her sleep that long. Jenna awoke with a sigh and a slight popping of her joints, her tired face taking in the room slowly. When she looked over at him, Teagan got the feeling she was surprised to still find him there.

"You'll be off after breakfast?" she asked, her words still slurred by sleep and heavy with resignation as she asked.

"If I could stay longer I would," he began, but she held up a hand.

"I would have gone myself, if I'd been able, but I knew you were coming back soon and by all accounts, Isolde is still well. I feel like I am able to only think at half speed and complete a quarter of the things I'd normally do." She shook her head, looking away from him. "I know it's grief, but knowing doesn't make it any easier to bear."

He didn't know what to say to that, so he just continued to dress. Jenna was slow at starting her day normally, and now she moved with a forgetfulness that concerned him. If only he could stay with her and entrust the job of looking in on his brother to one of his retainers, but that was impossible. She understood, he knew she would, his reluctance to leave so soon after arriving back to her was obvious. Teagan had lost track of what he was doing as he watched her, and looked down at the bowl of water he used for his ablutions as waves gentled into smoothness across the surface. His palm was damp with the remnants of cool water when he ran it down his face. 

For years he and Jenna had grown together, they'd learned how to get along and read each other. Their lack of a child after so much trying was usually the cause of strained silence between them, but only because the desperate sadness it caused both of them felt too heavy to try to put into words, as if their fragile hope might burst if they acknowledged aloud that their attempts weren't effective. Now there was this grief, real and tangible, and he felt even more lost as he watched the debilitating effects of it take hold of Jenna.

He would leave after their meal, if he could even call it that. If it proceeded like dinner the night before, he would watch Jenna try to each and largely fail, resorting to pushing her face around her plate and lifting her fork to her mouth only to set it down at the last second. As he thought about it, about her and what little things he might be able to tell the servants to help with, his eyes absently followed her around the room as she dressed. Teagan only realized he'd been staring again when she came to stop in front of him.

"You're frowning at me," she told him. It would have sounded playful if she wasn't so weary. He made an effort to smile at her and she brightened. "I'll miss you, Teagan. Send word if you need me, and I'll come."

"You needn't worry. Just pray for Eamon, and for what the future will bring."

"I already have been. Though I don't know if Fergus lives or not, I pray he does and I've included Eamon in my words to the Maker. Another brother to save," she said. Jenna began to turn away from him, to finish dressing but Teagan caught her arm and pulled her back to him.

He pressed his forehead against hers, murmuring to her, "Whatever happens, I love you. I will always love you."

"I know. And I you, Teagan," she replied.

#

The situation in Redcliffe was more desperate than Teagan had realized. The townspeople were in dire straits when he arrived, and he had to stop some of the fishermen from selling their food at inflated prices, since before his arrival, no food had arrived in the town for more than a week. He distributed some of the money he'd taken from his stores in Denerim, a safe where he and Eamon saved in case of emergencies. Coppers would not save these people, but at least it could let them keep on purchasing as if the Blight weren't knocking on their door.

Teagan kept a copper in his hand in case he met another on the way to the Chantry that might beg him for it, for a chance to get some ale from the miser that owned the lone tavern in the town. At the time he'd been given the purse, it had been a heavy bag of freshly pressed coppers and silvers bearing the profile of King Cailan I and Queen Anora on the reverse side. It had been a gift from Cailan, to celebrate the beginning of his marriage and rule. Teagan closed his hand tightly around the copper, opening it to look down at the face of his dead nephew. Such high hopes they'd had for him, and he'd been too brave and foolish for the half of them. When Teagan made to replace the coin with its fellows, he saw the imprint of the back of it on his palm, the profile of Anora pressed into his skin and the sight made him flinch.

He didn't want to think back on Anora as he'd last seen her, grief-stricken and adrift, a pawn under the rule of her father. His thoughts instead turned back to his wife, for Jenna had hardly left his thoughts as he'd left her behind in Rainesfere. He'd given most of his sovereigns to Jenna, though there hadn't been near as many of those in his small gift bag. It was a practical matter, the dwarven traders would likely pass through Rainesfere before they came here, if they even made it to Redcliffe again. She'd need money to buy supplies, for arms and potions and any food they could get.

"Bann Teagan, thank the Maker," the mother's voice caught him as he pushed open the heavy doors. She was standing just inside of them, her face caught in dusty shadow, but he knew it well enough from his visits.

"Let us not be hasty in our thanks, Revered mother," he said. "Tell me, where is my brother?"

"If only we knew, Bann Teagan," she began. She ushered him inside and began to tell him all that had transpired in the past few nights. 

After listening to the Revered mother, the knights of Redcliffe, and the people of the town, Teagan began to wish he'd stayed with Jenna. However he felt inwardly, he needed to fight the horrors that besieged Redcliffe. Teagan knew not how to fight the shambling, relentless corpses that he was told arose from the lake each night, but he was determined to try to keep Redcliffe safe. Murdoch the mayor had been scrambling to keep the people safe with no real knowledge of what he was fighting, and hardly any weapons. As Teagan talked with the weary man, all Murdoch could say for certain that he'd come to dread the sun going down.

Teagan would learn that dread as well. No one could leave, which is why the rider Jenna had sent to check in Eamon and Isolde hadn't returned. She'd forgotten to mention that to him, but the woman was there, helping the town fight. Teagan couldn't blame Jenna for her lapse of memory when she was dealing with so much, and at least the rider was a capable and able fighter.

After talking to everyone, trying to get into the castle and when that didn't work, shouting up at the walls, Teagan went to the Chantry, to pray. Maker, he had so many names to sing, so many rememberances to make. More now that he was in Redcliffe and could see the faces of the people, those that had lost their loved ones and watched them dragged off by the shambling monsters that came from the lake.

"Oh Maker, hear my words," he began. By tradition and teaching, he should have first asked for the blessing for the newly departed, for the Couslands, but he didn't. Foremost in his mind, even standing in the middle of the mess that was Redcliffe, uncertain if his brother yet lived, he prayed for Jenna. "Protect my wife, who has much to bear during this trying time."

That evening, when he finally fought with the townspeople, saw what they were up against, he prayed that he might actually be able to see her again. Don't make her lose her husband as well, let me return home safe, he prayed silently as he hacked at the pieces of another monstrosity. In the morning he returned to the Chantry, the only place with room, and lay down on a pew, exhausted. He slept for only thirty minutes before he began working again, setting up a watch to look for people on the road, and asking any of Redcliffe's knights to check in with him so they could form a plan for their defense. It was all he could do and even then, Teagan knew it wasn't enough.

He wouldn't have known what to do, how to continue to fight it off if help hadn't arrived in the form of Alistair. At first, Teagan thought it was a fever dream, borne of the wicked fatigue that snaked through him. He was still in his saddle, riding from Denerim, because this couldn't be real. The last few weeks of his life couldn't have led to Alistair walking through the Chantry doors in Redcliffe, but yet, it had.

He'd spent many, many nights worried for the lad, who was still a child in Teagan's mind. Alistair, awkward and with his strange sense of humor, but who was still as sensitive and kind, and possessed of the beauty of the Theirin line. There had been times after Isolde showed up that Teagan begged Eamon to let him take Alistair, to let him raise the boy, but Eamon insisted he had to go to the Chantry. Eamon was convinced that it was the only fitting place for him, teach him to fight, to serve the Maker, and ensure that heirs would be unlikely.

But there he came, striding into the Chantry, nothing but a handsome stranger in impressive armor to Teagan until he mentioned being covered in mud. The last time Teagan had seen Alistair, well, it had been many years before and he had been covered in mud before a housemaid swept out and scolded him for trying to run away and sent him to take a bath. Teagan could remember the bitter disappointment on Alistair's young, mud encrusted face. It was then that Teagan had gone to Eamon for the last time, asking to take Alistair instead of sending him to the Chantry. Before Teagan could make his case again, Isolde had won, and Eamon's knights had taken Alistair out of Redcliffe.

The child Teagan remembered was gone, and this man, this Grey Warden still had Alistair's strange sense of humor, but it had acquired a grim tinge. His eyes, once so merry and lively as he caused mischief, only assessed and narrowed in question. Alistair came with a strange group -- an elf wearing more knives than Teagan thought one person could ever even use in a lifetime and two mages, one an older woman in the robes of a senior enchanter and the other a very young woman with dark purple hair and skin almost the same shade Jenna's own rich, warm brown, but more robust from her travels under the sun and without the pall of grief.

She seemed as young as Alistair, and yet it was obvious that it was she that had the authority in the group. It was to her that Alistair looked to for confirmation that they would indeed help Redcliffe, and she who turned her purple head to the elf and told him to 'behave' before getting a wink in return. They called her only 'Warden' but she bore the mark of the Circle of Ferelden. She was trained to fight magic, and that was certainly needed here, so Teagan decided to trust her. She gently prodded him as she asked questions, asking about Loghain and Connor and the knights of Redcliffe.

"Do you have any family?" The Warden asked Teagan. She'd been questioning him about the situation but had switched topics, catching him off-guard.

"Oh, you mean am I married? Yes, I am, my lady. I left Lady Jenna, my wife, in charge of Rainesfere and in case of a darkspawn attack. There hadn't been any before I left, but there were a lot of trader dwarves leaving Orzammar with the city doors sealed. I worry for them, but she's quite quick with two blades as well as a bow," Teagan explained.

"I see. No doubt she'd rather be fighting at your side."

"If it were so, it would bring my heart comfort to have her here. Though we fight well together, I would worry for her. Perhaps it's best we fight in different places," Teagan said.

The Warden's eyes flicked towards Alistair, as he spoke. It was just a swift flash but Alistair had looked over at her at the same time, and his face betrayed more than the closed countenance of the Warden. Teagan nearly gave himself away and smiled, but he looked away before he did. They had work to do, and later, much later after they'd made it into the castle and saw exactly what was going on there, then he'd ask Alistair how long he'd been in love with his fellow warden. Like as not, he'd need something pleasant to think on after they broke into the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Here's Hilde Amell, my warden from the story, Hilde, Darling. I wrote Hilde, Darling for the Dragon Age Big Bang, and there's some artwork to go along with it. Hilde, Darling takes place post-Blight for those that want to read it, and though it fits into this continuity, I don't think there's any Jenna/Teagan spoilers.


End file.
